


Olympus Detective Agency, Inc.

by Idris388



Category: Percy Jackson and the Olympians - Rick Riordan, The Heroes of Olympus - Rick Riordan
Genre: Alternate Universe - Detectives, F/M, Family, Gen, M/M, Minor Character Death, Team as Family
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-01
Updated: 2019-04-07
Packaged: 2019-10-20 10:02:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 12
Words: 44,496
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17620367
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Idris388/pseuds/Idris388
Summary: “Will saved the contact to his phone, then swiped back to the message and stared at the words written there. P. Jackson & A. Chase: Olympus Detective Agency.And that was how it began.”Or: the modern detective AU that nobody asked for.





	1. Prologue - Through Time

_“We’re all travelling through time together…”_  

_~Richard Curtis, “About Time”_  

* * *

He learnt very quickly that in this world, time was singular in its inability to run backwards. It complicated everything considerably. Words spoken, love lost, kisses exchanged, bullets fired, sunsets, scones eaten, texts sent, mail received - none of it could be taken back.

(“Isn’t that what makes life interesting?”

“No need to get philosophical.”)

When he was fifteen, gangly knees and a shock of sand-gold hair, he had kissed a girl for the first time.

When he was sixteen, a boy.

When he was seventeen, he fell in love to Taylor Swift’s _Today was a Fairytale_. That was his first mistake.

When he was twenty-one, it was Ed Sheeran’s _Thinking Out Loud._

(“Do you ever listen to anything that isn’t by a pop sensation?” 

“Whatever you say, _punk rock_.”)

Other than time, everything blurred together as he grew. Love and hate and blue and black and silver and mystery and patience and glass and sand and work and laughter and joy and sorrow. He lost his virginity in a five-star hotel room, gilded and gold. He met the love of his life in a pub. The first patient who he watched die had cancer at the age of thirty-three. The first person he ever saw dead without being alive had a gun in his hand. Everything mixed in together, and fast, like a washing machine out of control; good and bad inseparable, tangled up and torn.

(“That’s how life is, though.”

“Would you be quiet? _I’m_ telling the story.”)

* * *

_We’re born with millions / Of little lights shining in the dark_

_One lights up, every time you feel love in your heart / One dies when it moves away_

_~Passenger, “All the Little Lights”_

* * *

He had been a shining star, but he’d burned too brightly and too quickly.

He went to sleep feeling cold and empty every night, and when he woke, his head ached, or his hands, or his eyes, or his chest. On this last occasion, he had hooked himself up to an ECG machine in alarm. “Normal,” Lee told him, reading the lines as easily as a language. “Nothing medically wrong, anyway.”

Will pressed a hand to his chest and winced. “Then what _is_ wrong with me?”

Lee reeled the ECG leads in and eyed Will carefully. “Tell me again.”

“Here,” Will said, tapping on Lee’s sternum. “Sort of dull pain-”

“Radiating anywhere?” Lee asked, folding up Will’s ECG results and handing them back. Will shook his head. “Taken anything?” 

Will shook his head again. “Do you think I should have an angiogram?”

“Oh, for God’s sake,” Lee said, looking exasperated. “You’re not having a heart attack, Will; we both know that.”

“Well, then what is it?” Will demanded. 

Lee shrugged. “Just wait and see if it goes away.”

Will swung his legs over the side of the bed and glared at his friend. “Very sound medical advice, thank you.”

Lee grinned at that. “Can I offer you an opinion that isn’t strictly medical, then?” Will spread his hands. “Disease can sometimes be just that - _dis-ease._ ” Will blinked. Lee paused a moment, then said gently, “Are you happy?”

Will pressed his hand to his chest again and said nothing.

* * *

He bought a one-way ticket to London because it was where his parents had first met. His father had been running his businesses by day and frequenting concerts by night. His mother had been playing her guitar in the park as the Sun went down. It had been a quick, passionate and affectionate affair; he doted on her even after it ended, she had always wanted children. 

Everything moved quickly in London, but he drifted through its green and grey with no direction or desire to join in the flurry. He ventured through the detailed streets, walked beside monuments of architecture, watched the sunlight fade from the ancient skyline and fell completely under its spell. His mother rang him every second day. “How are you?” she asked him as he was seated next to a window, watching people move past. The lamppost closest to him threw out a dull yellow cone, illuminating the stone.

“Delighted,” he answered.

“Yes,” his mother answered as if she understood.

He was alone, completely alone, for perhaps the first time in his life. It dizzied him, dazzled him. “Are you lonely?” Naomi asked. 

Will took a bite of his sandwich and considered the question. “Not really,” he said finally. “No.”

* * *

_“I have no idea what I’m going to do tomorrow.”_

_“How exciting.”_

_~David Guion & Michael Handelman, “Night at the Museum: Secret of the Tomb” _

* * *

He ran, quite literally, into Sherman Yang. After they recovered with apologies and recognised each other properly, Sherman gave Will a hug. “What are you doing here?” Will asked with a smile. Sherman had been in his calculus class during their senior year, and they had shared a mutual frustration with the subject. 

Sherman grinned. “My dad’s opening some new offices in London, so I’m just over here doing some set-up work. Good to see you, though, Golden Boy.”

Will winced at the nickname. “Not so golden anymore, I’m afraid.” Sherman checked his phone, then looked at him expectantly. “I’m taking a break from working. Just for a year.”

“Really?” Sherman asked. “Is everything alright?”

Will shoved his hands into his pockets and shrugged. “Yeah.” He rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly. “I just wanted a break from it all.”

Sherman’s dark eyes were a little sympathetic. “Give me your number and we’ll do a proper thing. Get a beer or something.”

Will gave his number to his friend with a grin at the promise of a catch-up and a pint. What he received three days later was a text that contained a name, a number and a short message:

_Will,_

_Not sure if you remember Percy Jackson and Annabeth Chase from school, but I heard that they’re looking for a medical consultant. I know you’re taking a break, but if you’re interested you could shoot them a text. Contact attached._  

Will saved the contact to his phone, then swiped back to the message and stared at the words written there. _P. Jackson & A. Chase: Olympus Detective Agency. _And that was how it began.


	2. Exordium

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Into the fray.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A small amount of swearing. Be warned.

There was a watercolour painting hanging on the wall, done in careful shades of yellow and red and black and blue, and showing the full blush of Autumn. A lone, slim figure stood out in bold crimson and stark black, between two pastel trees. It was lonely and lovely and Will could practically smell the smoky woods as he stared at it.

“It’s one of Hazel’s,” Percy said, closing the door behind them. The familiar sounds of the London streets disappeared immediately, plunging them into silence.

“It’s beautiful,” Will said. His mother loved autumn, his father loved art. “She’s an excellent painter.”

“She’s a pretty good detective too,” Percy said, gesturing to the door on his right and ushering Will through. “Or at least, she will be once Annabeth is finished with her. This is the main office.”

There was a long, white-washed room with four windows spread across two walls, sunlight streaming in across the wooden floorboards. There were several desks, and a large square rug in the centre was unrolled beneath turquoise and white sofas and a glass-topped coffee table. Annabeth was seated on the floor, papers spread out before her, glasses propped on top of her head. “Hi,” she said, with a smile. “Giving him the grand tour?”

“Thought I’d do it while everybody’s out,” Percy grinned in return. “Don’t want to scare him off before he starts.”

“I think Nico locked his office before he left,” Annabeth said, returning to her work.

Percy rolled his eyes. “Will wouldn’t want to go in anyway, it’s like a dungeon down there.” Annabeth laughed and Percy tilted his head at Will. “Shall we go up?”

Percy and Annabeth shared an office on the second floor. It was decorated in subtle shades of blue and grey, and there was an obvious divide down the middle - Percy’s half was covered with untidy piles of books, unclipped papers and shelves full of photographs, dog-eared volumes and one wilting pot plant. Annabeth’s half was neat and orderly, with binders clearly labelled, a clear desk space with pristine stationery and a filing cabinet that Will had no doubt was immaculate. “Don’t ever touch Annabeth’s stuff,” Percy said. “It’ll be guaranteed worse than any telling-off your mother ever gave you.”

“Jason works in here.” Percy opened the door opposite. “And we’ve put Hazel in as well, since she joined.” Jason Grace’s office was green and gold in theme. His desk bristled with stationery - a coffee mug full of pens, post-it notes on the wall above, a cork board covered with photographs and notes. An enormous white-board was propped against the far wall, empty but for a multitude of rainbow magnets and markers. “It’s how he works,” Percy told Will. “He likes to see the whole case with the evidence in front of him. The board gets pretty full when we’re working a case.”

“And how does Hazel work best?” Will asked. Other than a single neat stack of books, a blank pad and a pen, the young woman’s desk was empty.

Percy grinned and gestured to the dark green rug. “On the floor.”

On the third and top level was the equipment room and Piper’s lab. “She’s not here that often, but we had it put in for when she drops by,” Percy said, shrugging. “But take my advice - never bring food in. You’ll end up nearly eating something that definitely isn’t your mid-morning snack.”

Nico was a coroner by trade, and worked in the basement. Despite his earlier comment, Percy tried the handle, but it was indeed locked.

* * *

_A brave heart and a courteous tongue. They shall carry thee far through the jungle, manling._

_~Rudyard Kipling, “The Jungle Books”_

* * *

Jason was Percy’s cousin, and had attended Jupiter Institute, the British equivalent of Will, Percy and Annabeth’s _Hemitheos_ Academy. He leaned his long form against one of the tall, circular tables near the bar and waved when he saw them come in. Jason had half-framed glasses, a firm handshake and an easy manner that made him instantly likeable. “He was valedictorian, too,” Annabeth told Will, handing him a beer. Jason rolled his eyes at them and grinned. “He’s good at everything and we all hate him.”

“Hazel can’t make it,” Jason said, scrolling up and down on his phone. “But Nico said he’s here somewhere.” He swept his gaze around the clusters of people in the bar. Will saw the flash of electric blue behind his glasses as Jason looked once, then again, around the room.

“What does he look like?” Will asked and they described Nico to him between them; dark hair, skinny, looks borderline anaemic - Will had seen a good deal of gruesome injuries, but even he winced as Annabeth slapped the back of Percy’s head after that last comment. There were two women sitting by the window, a middle-aged man perched on a bar stool, and a single figure seated towards the back of the bar. “Is that him?”

The others turned as one to glance in the direction he was pointing. “Oh yeah,” Annabeth said, squinting in the relative darkness. “That’s Nico.”

Will frowned. “Why is he sitting on his own?”

Jason made a face. “You know how some people read a book or ride a bike or sometimes crack a smile?”

Will blinked. “Um. Yeah?”

“Well, Nico sits on his own.”

“Jason,” Annabeth said disapprovingly.

“And broods in dark silence about the injustices of the universe.”

“ _Jason_ ,” Annabeth said again, then turned to Will. “Excuse the poor manners. Nico’s Percy’s cousin, you know. Jason’s too.”

“Well, don’t go advertising the fact,” Jason said, but he was leaning back and waving towards the corner. “Neeks. _Neeks._ Oh, for fuck’s sake - _Nico di Angelo_.”

At last, the dark-haired young man looked up and even in the dim lighting, and Will saw him properly.

(“Love at first sight.”

“Not for me.”

“Liar.”)

Nico di Angelo had skin like marble, pale and luminous and vibrant; large, dark eyes and slim shoulders and cheekbones that looked like they could slice through sandwich meat. He looked like a Michelangelo statue with a scowl sculpted on.

Nico had arrived at their little quartet, which seemed to unravel naturally to include him. “Jason,” he said, “will you stop flapping your arms like that - you look like a demented seagull.”

Jason slung his arm over Nico with a bright smile. “Hey, little cousin.”

“Do _not_ call me-“

“Nice of you to join us for once.” Jason winked at Will. “Come meet our new friend!” He turned Nico so that he and Will were facing. “Neeks, Will. Will, Neeks.”

Nico made another face at Jason before extending his hand to Will. “Nico di Angelo,” he said.

So they were all hand shakers in the Percy-Jackson-Jason-Grace-Nico-di-Angelo family. Will’s breath was still caught in his throat somewhere, but he managed to force it back down into his lungs and speak somewhat normally. “Will Solace.”

Percy thrust a glass into Nico’s hand unceremoniously as soon as Will released it. Nico’s eyes lingered on Will for a moment before drifting to Percy. “So how’s the Victor case coming along?”

“We wrapped it up this afternoon,” Percy told him and Jason leaned in to listen. “Annabeth sent the paperwork over right before we came here. Holly’s not pleased with the outcome-”

“Well, we offer detective services, not pleased-with-the-outcome services,” Nico said promptly, a small scowl back on his face. Jason nodded emphatically.

“That’s what I told her,” Percy said, gesturing wildly. Annabeth caught his wrist before any of his wine could escape from the glass, and rolled her eyes across the table at Will. “Not in those words, obviously; we can’t all have your verbal abandon, Nico.”

“Never had any complaints.”

“All your customers are _cadavers_.”

“Your point being, Jason?”

“That you should show them a little more respect, Nico.”

“Sorry, but do I tell you how to use your magnifying glass?”

“We don’t use magnifying glasses. What do you think this is, the 1800s?”

“Boys,” Annabeth said in a quelling voice.

They ignored her. “Maybe you’d have a little more success if you did,” Nico was saying as Will watched, fascinated. When he bickered with his cousins, a little colour rose into Nico’s cheeks and his eyes glimmered with a mixture of irritation and enjoyment. Somewhat belatedly, Will remembered that it was rude to stare, but Nico didn’t seem to notice. “Isn’t attention to detail sort of one of the pillars of your profession?”

“We’ve _never had any complaints_ ,” Percy fired back. “Besides-”

“ _Kids_ ,” Annabeth interjected, a little louder, seizing Percy’s arm again as he swept it outwards and towards her face. “Would you please keep it down? It’s only Will’s first day.”

Jason looked sheepish immediately. “Sorry. You must think we’re absolute savages.”

“And he would be right to think so,” Annabeth replied. “Worst sort of wolf pack.”

She let go of Percy’s arm and he took a long drink of wine, before offering an entirely non-apologetic grin to Will. “Welcome to the jungle, my friend.”

* * *

_Just follow your head / Follow your heart,_

_Wherever it goes, it goes, it goes /_

_Don’t let it run from you._

_~Claire Guerreso, Jill Andrews, “Follow Your Heart”_

* * *

Working at Olympus Detective Agency, Inc. was like the dreams he’d had as a child. It was medical consulting he was needed for - did the facts match up, was that injury really severe enough to cause that degree of blood loss, what treatment would he have recommended for this particular illness, were the medical records done correctly. Could he examine this person, did this young woman need to be taken to hospital, could he read the medical file and interpret all of the jargon and indecipherable handwriting.

It wasn’t every day, but there was more for him to do than he had expected. When they didn’t need him as a doctor, Percy and Annabeth sometimes asked him for his opinion on other things - what did he think of the testimony, how did the interviewee seem to him, did this handwriting match with that, did he think a theory was plausible? _I’m not a detective_ , was always on the tip of Will’s tongue, and he gave his opinion tentatively at first, but with growing confidence.

He helped Jason assemble his case boards, and Hazel with her assignments from Annabeth. Hazel’s boyfriend Frank was a lawyer, who struck up an easy cameraderie and friendship with Will over a mutual interest in moral philosophy, while Hazel affectionately called them dorks. Leo, Jason’s best friend and the Agency’s tech expert, taught him how to write basic code, and to connect his email address to his phone, which was something that apparently even children could do. Piper had several degrees in forensic science, and they spent long hours discussing papers and theories of research.

Sometimes he went with Nico to the crime scenes, or helped with autopsy reports. Nico was clever in every way that Will understood, but something about him made Will slightly uneasy. There was a fire under his skin, and when their hands brushed or their eyes met for too long, it made the fire itch and burn, and Will’s heartbeat sound in his ears.

And there were lunches and dinners and one wine tasting that went horribly wrong. They pulled Will in, little by little, until he was a part of the group, and showed him their favourite spots in London, and told him about their families, and once they discovered that he liked to bake, plied him with constant requests. They got drunk (a little) and worked (a lot) and laughed (every day). And it was good.

He found work at the local hospital as well, part-time, and made new connections with the medical staff. And he loved that too; re-discovering the deep joy he had always felt in being a doctor.

Will postponed his plane ticket home for three months, then another three. He ignored five of his father’s phone calls in a week, then another week, and then five in a single day, until one afternoon, he came to the office and Percy was waiting for him, a somewhat resigned smile on his face. “Your dad rang me.”

_Of course he did_. Will sighed and dropped his bag. “Aren’t I a bit old for my father to ring my boss behind my back?”

“He wants to know when you’re going home.”

Annabeth was seated in the white armchair, and lifted her head to look out the window. Nico, down by the table, turned his slightly away. Will knew they were both listening. “If I knew that,” he responded, “I would have picked up when he called.”

Percy shrugged. “I told your dad that I’d do my best to help you make a decision.” Will said nothing. “In case it wasn’t obvious, you’re more than welcome to stay here. I know it was only going to be temporary until we found someone in the long run, but you’re the best doctor we’ve ever worked with, and you’re already part of the family.” Percy watched him carefully. Annabeth had given up all pretence of reading, and rested her grey gaze on him as well. Only Nico was looking away. “But you don’t have to if that’s not what you want. So what do you want?”

“I think,” Will said slowly, “that dad wants me to go home. I had a really good job at the hospital there.”

“What do you want?” Percy repeated.

Memories were like a photo album, and Will flipped through his swiftly to see whether he had ever been asked that question, and been expected to answer on his own. He remembered his father’s hand on his shoulder, or his mother’s advice in her low, loving voice, like lights. Now, it was only him. “I-“ he began, then broke off. _You’re already part of the family._

Everything was turning, spinning past him too fast for him to see. He had no idea what he was doing.

(“You have to get lost before you can find your way, you know.”)

“How do I figure it out?”

They all stared at him. Will stared back, trying to convey the honesty behind his question. At last, Percy moved forward until he was leaning against the back of Annabeth’s armchair. “Are you happy here?”

Will let out a long breath. “Yeah,” he said.

Annabeth leaned her head back against Percy, tiny and intimate. It caused a thrum of envy in Will’s throat, and a huge gush of affection. “Do you think you’d be more or less happy if you went home?”

It was such a simple answer. He picked up the phone and called his father.

* * *

“To William Hector Solace,” Leo said, lifting his beer glass and slopping about a shot glass’ worth onto the table. “For finally figuring out how to think for himself.”

“Hear, hear,” Piper said while Will shoved Leo good-naturedly.

“Leo,” Jason said reproachfully, although he clinked his glass dutifully against theirs.

“What - it’s true,” Leo replied cheerfully. “I know how it is with you rich kids. Will wasn’t even that bad - you should have seen Jason when we first met. Couldn’t even decide to turn right or left on the street without ringing his father up about it.”

“ _Leo_ ,” Jason exclaimed, the tips of his ears turning red with mortification.

“C’mon, babe,” Piper grinned, looping her arm through his. “You know it’s true.”

“To independence,” Leo bellowed, toasting again, then downed his entire beer in one go.

Will watched, alarmed. “Your liver should probably take out its own insurance.”

Nico snorted. “His liver should be writing its own eulogy by now.”

“My liver hasn’t even gotten started yet,” Leo grinned. “Do you know how drunk you have to be for the tacos from that shitty deli on the corner to taste good?” Will and Nico both stayed silent and Leo kept on. “Really, _really_ drunk. So, first inebriation. Then tacos.”

And then he was gone, tracking a path back towards the bar. Piper and Jason trailed after him. “Inebriation’s a pretty big word for someone who can barely spell his own name,” Nico commented after a second, and sipped his own beer.

“He certainly is a singular one,” Will laughed in response, throwing back the rest of his own drink. The kick of the alcohol hit him, a light fizzing in his head and his fingertips. He had been buzzing ever since his phone call with his father. _I have to do something for me, dad_ , he had said. _This is for me_. And to that, his father had nothing to say.

Nico was watching him over the top of his glass. “How do you feel?”

He considered the question seriously. “Pretty excellent.” Will shrugged. “I’m guessing that will fade with the alcohol, though.”

“I don’t know,” Nico said thoughtfully. “Doing something for yourself always leaves a mark.” He sipped again at his beer and swallowed, the pale arch of his neck shifting as he did so. Will felt the familiar stretch of his skin, the bright heat in his chest, and looked away. “Everyone’s really happy, you know,” Nico said. “That you’re staying.”

Will cleared his throat and stared at the table. He blamed it on the alcohol, and the loud pub, and the fact that he had already done one crazy thing today, so what the heck. “Are you?”

The moment it left his lips, he wished he could take it back, but it was too late. Time could not be reversed. Nico stared at him with wide eyes, lips slightly parted, and Will finally lifted his head so that their gazes met. Then, quiet, nearly inaudible, “Yes.”

The tiniest bloom of colour.

* * *

_…I plant the seeds of love in my garden._

_~Debasish Mridha_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you enjoyed! Please review. :)


	3. Whatsoever Houses

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The plot thickens.

Luke Castellan had a gun.

Will had seen a gunshot wound once, in the Emergency Department as an intern. The bullet had gone clean through the man’s shoulder. It had been an easy fix, even though the method of injury was somewhat gruesome.

Luke Castellan’s bullet wound was in his chest. The gun was in his right hand; the blood was all behind him, pooling and thickening in the dust on the floor. Hazel was crying into Frank’s chest and Jason was staring in horror at the ceiling. Percy was whiter than chalk. Nico’s face was pinched. Annabeth clenched her fists so hard that her palms bled, and said nothing.

The police were ruling it a suicide, but Will knew that was wrong before he had even looked closely at the body. The placement of the wound was too low for Luke Castellan to have shot himself there, but Will couldn’t bring himself to speak to anybody.

Percy crossed the room and asked Nico in a low voice to follow up with the autopsy after it was done. The latter nodded stiffly.

Luke Castellan had golden hair and a long, lanky form. He was wearing tattered converse trainers with wings drawn on the sides. They wheeled his body away in a bag on a stretcher and Will closed his eyes and sighed.

* * *

_Even though I walk through the valley of shadow and death,_

_I will fear no evil,_

_For you are with me;_

_Your rod and your staff,_

_The comfort me._

_~Psalm 23:4_

* * *

Thalia Grace had the rung the doorbell early. Will checked his watch. The first client wasn’t due for their appointment until nine, and it was only seven thirty-five. Annabeth was in the lab with Piper, Percy was asleep on the sofa in his office, and Jason and Hazel were at work on an old case that Annabeth had given to Hazel.

He opened the door.

“Are you new?” she asked him, and he blinked.

“Relatively,” he responded. “Er, and you are?”

“I’m Jason’s sister,” she said with a distracted smile. “Thalia.”

He recognised her; there was a picture of her in Jason’s office, framed. She was smiling in the photo, her arm wrapped around him. “Oh, well, I’m Will. Please do come in.”

“Is my brother here?” she asked. “I need him. And Annabeth. And Percy.”

The way she headed straight for the coffee machine showed that she was familiar with the building, although Will hadn’t seen her in the eight months he’d been there. “They’re here,” he said, putting down his mug. “I’ll go and get them.”

When he returned to the main room with everyone in tow, Nico had risen from the basement and was chatting with Thalia. Jason crossed the room in three long strides and enveloped his sister in a hug. The Grace siblings looked nothing alike, bar those bright, electric eyes. “I’m happy to see you all too,” Thalia said to them as they crowded around to greet her. “But this isn’t a social call; I need you guys to help me.”

“What’s the matter?” Percy asked immediately.

Thalia worried her bottom lip. “Luke’s missing.”

* * *

_My love must be a kind of blind love…_

_~The Flamingos, “I Only Have Eyes For You”_

* * *

Will remembered Luke Castellan. A tall, blond boy with a smile that lit up like a firework, and blue eyes that would melt the ice off anyone. He had positively popped and crackled with charisma. He had been four grades above, and Will didn’t recall when he had left school. “He dropped out,” Thalia said. “He wanted to be a journalist, and someone offered him an internship or something like that.”

“That’s brave,” Will observed. Thalia snorted.

“Yeah, or stupid. Luke was always one of the two.” She stirred sugar into her tea. “It broke Annabeth’s heart when he left. Never called, never texted, never wrote. He could have been dead for all we knew.”

“Must have been difficult,” Will said, sitting down at the table next to the window. Leo had arrived after Jason and Hazel had taken the car. He sat on the sofa, legs stretched out, typing furiously on a sleek laptop. Nico sat in an armchair and read the newspaper. The light was still soft from morning, unfurling across the room in primrose and cream.

“Broke us apart,” Thalia replied tersely. “Annabeth hasn’t seen Luke for over a year now.”

“You’ve seen him, though,” Will observed, cupping his hands around his mug and blowing gently.

Thalia stared at him for a moment, then jerked her shoulders in a sort of shrug. “Luke was angry for a long time as a child. When he turned up again after school, he wasn’t anymore. He was happy. I liked it.” She shrugged. “He, Annabeth and I ran amok together a lot as kids. Luke and I met first. I’ve known him a long time. I couldn’t be angry at him when he’d found what he always wanted.”

“But Annabeth was angry,” Will murmured.

“Like I said,” Thalia replied. “He broke her heart when he left us.”

Will blinked in surprise. Annabeth and Percy’s relationship was one of the constants within the Agency, slow and strong. He couldn’t imagine Annabeth with anyone else, although he supposed that was wrong of him. “Oh, so Luke and Annabeth-”

“Nah,” Thalia said, although her eyes were soft with fondness. “She was like his kid sister. But she held a torch for him back then. Most people did. It’s how Luke was.” Will watched her, eyes glazed over, a soft smile touching her face. She cupped her chin in her hand and glanced over at Will. “He was my first, you know.”

He smiled too, drawn in to her bubble of memory. “Your first love?” he asked.

Thalia smiled again, bittersweet. “My first everything.”

* * *

“He’s not there.”

Jason’s voice was grim, his face slightly strained on the screen. Annabeth held the phone up while Nico lowered the blinds on the windows so that they could see Jason clearly. “Neighbours haven’t seen or heard anything unusual. Annabeth - are there any other addresses we could check? Properties he might have held?”

“I’ll look into it,” Annabeth said, handing the phone off to Percy.

“I’ll help,” Thalia added, standing up, and they exited the room together, talking in low voices.

Percy shifted the phone to his other hand. “You guys in the car?”

“Yeah,” Jason said quietly. “Percy, listen. I don’t think Luke’s been living in his apartment for a while. There was dust everywhere, maybe about five days’ worth.” Jason’s brow was creased with worry; Will leaned forward on the sofa to hear better. “There was still coffee in the pot; his wardrobe was nearly empty. And books - Perce, stacks and stacks of books, just knocked over, and all over the floor.” Jason paused a moment, then said, softer, “I think he left in a hurry.”

“A huge hurry,” Hazel’s voice agreed from somewhere beyond the screen.

After they had hung up the call, Percy turned to them. “Thoughts?”

Leo spoke up. “Chasing down a lead?”

“Or being chased,” Piper pointed out.

“Who would chase a journalist?” Leo asked.

“Depends on what they’d written recently,” Piper replied, and Leo’s phone flashed up.

“Nothing that looks too sinister,” he told them as Percy craned his neck to look at the screen. Leo scrolled rapidly. “Coverage on Brexit - go figure. Artificial intelligence, cool. Review of the education system, overseas armed conflict, foreign policy - your boy doesn’t mess around, does he?” Leo asked and Percy made a face.

“He’s not-” He cut himself off and Will remembered what Thalia had said. _She always held a torch for him_. “Anyway,” Percy continued. “That shouldn’t be so different from what half the people at Luke’s workplace were writing, and as far as we know, he’s the only one who’s missing.”

“As far as we know,” Piper said, and Percy acknowledged this point.

“So we’ll look into that. But for now, maybe we shouldn’t rule out that Luke was running from someone.”

Nico, who had been silent throughout the interaction, now spoke up. “Hardly likely, though, is it? Luke Castellan wasn’t the type to run away from anything. He ran towards something else. That’s what people like Luke do. And everyone else just gets left behind.” There was a tint of bitterness in his voice that Will didn’t quite understand.

“Nico’s right,” Percy agreed. “Luke was a lot of things, but he wasn’t someone who would run from danger. Even if it were the smart thing to do.” _Brave or stupid; one of the two_.

“Sounds like someone else we know,” Piper said pointedly, and Percy flushed.

“Chasing down a lead is the more likely option at this point,” he said, ignoring her. “Let’s hope he found it before anything bad happened.”

* * *

_Parting is such sweet sorrow_

_That I shall say goodnight, ‘till it be morrow._

_~Shakespeare, “Romeo and Juliet”_

* * *

Annabeth and Thalia sent Jason four different addresses to try - “We used to run all over town,” Thalia told them. The first three revealed nothing; no signs of Luke, nor that he had been there. The fourth was unlocked.

When Jason finally rang back, they could hear Hazel’s voice in the background, speaking frantically. “Is he there?” Annabeth asked immediately. “Did you find him?”

They heard Jason’s shaky breath through the phone. “Yeah, we found him.”

Thalia leaned closer to the phone. “Let me talk to him.”

There was a long, awful silence. In it, they could hear Hazel repeating the address over and over in the distance. “I can’t,” Jason said finally. “He can’t.”

Thalia fell back. “Why not?” Annabeth asked quietly. Percy, looking like he was about to walk across hot coals, stood up from his chair and came around to place a hand on her shoulder. “Percy, _get off_ me - why not?” she demanded louder.

Jason sighed unsteadily. “He was lying on the floor when we arrived. With the gun. The blood-” He stopped himself before he could go any further, but Annabeth had already covered her face. Will could see her hands shaking; the tears that ran down her wrists, sparkling. Percy’s fingers were white where they gripped her shoulder. Thalia sat motionless on the table, her face frozen.

With his other hand, Percy took the phone from Piper’s nerveless fingers. “Jason, are you and Hazel ok?”

“Annabeth, Thalia - I’m sorry,” Jason murmured. “I’m so sorry.”

This seemed to jolt Thalia into action; she rose to her feet gracefully, avoided the hand that Nico put out to her, yanked her coat from the rack viciously and disappeared into the hallway. The sound of the door slamming made Will flinch. _He was my first_.

“I’m really sorry,” Jason repeated, and it sounded like he was crying.

Then, farther away, Hazel’s voice, small and sure - “The police are on their way.”

* * *

“Luke Castellan,” Sherman said slowly, his eyes wide. “I remember him. Tall, blond, bit older than us.”

“That’s him,” Will murmured.

“He _shot_ himself?”

“That’s what the newspapers are saying,” Will replied.

Sherman leaned back in his chair and surveyed Will critically. “But you don’t think so.”

They weren’t officially working the case. That was what Jason kept reminding them in hushed tones. As soon as they left the police station, Annabeth had dragged Will ahead of the rest of the group. _Luke didn’t really shoot himself_ , she had said, and then looked expectantly at him. He waited for a question, but one didn’t come. Her eyes had been ringed with red but she was no longer crying; she looked fierce and sad in the gloaming light, like a warrior. _Tell me I’m right._

“No,” Will said to Sherman. “I don’t think so.”

“Why were you there in the first place?” Sherman asked him. “Aren’t you just doing consulting work?”

Will hesitated, unsure of how to explain. “Percy and Annabeth like the whole team to be on hand. It gives them an outside opinion, and…” He considered again, and finally settled with, “It’s how the Agency works.”

Sherman looked surprised, then impressed. Then, with the sudden grin of a businessman said, “Then, maybe they should be paying you more.”

* * *

Annabeth had taken to pacing. She took the same route, from sofa to door to far wall to second window from the left to kitchenette to sofa and again. Will was rather accustomed to nervous habits - medical school had the habit of bringing quirks such as these to the surface. The others were less sure.

“Annabeth,” Jason said gently. “Do you want to sit down?”

“If I wanted to sit down, I would sit down!”

Jason blinked at the harsh tone. “Alright,” he replied, and that was the end of that.

Leo and Piper exchanged glances. Percy sighed. Hazel reached a hand out to Annabeth, then thought better of it and placed it back in her lap. “We should be _doing_ something,” Annabeth insisted again. Sofa, door, far wall.

“You know we can’t legally investigate until we’ve been hired to,” Percy replied. It sounded as if they had had this discussion already.

Second window from the left, kitchenette. “What if I hire us?”

“I don’t think you’d be able to work the case, then,” Percy said tiredly. “Annabeth, please sit down.”

The pattern broke and Annabeth bumped into the sofa as she tried to pass. “ _No_.” And then she was gone. They all heard the pounding of her footsteps as she ascended the steps, then the office door on the second floor slammed shut and there was silence.

“Let her alone,” Nico said as Percy half rose from his chair. “This is one problem you can’t solve for her.”

Percy nodded at this, but stood up anyway, stretched, and then looked at Will. “I need to ask you a favour.”

 

* * *

 

_Come to me, all you who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest._

_~Matthew 11:28_

* * *

_How to grief counsel._

The search bar blinked at him for a second, then results unfurled underneath. Will scrolled until he found one that looked easy and clicked.

There had been a clamouring of opinions when Percy had made his request.

Piper had been the first to speak. “Percy, Will’s not a grief counsellor.”

“He’s the closest thing we’ve got,” Percy retorted.

“Close isn’t the same thing,” Hazel protested. “That’s a lot to put on Will.”

“Someone has to help her,” Percy said, tension running through him like an electric wire.

Jason leaned forward. “Then let’s send her to a qualified counsellor,” he said. “Not that I don’t think Will would be a good counsellor-”

“But let’s face it, chief,” Leo interjected. “He’s not exactly trained, and you wouldn’t send one of us to do someone else’s job, would you?”

Only Nico had no objection. He watched the exchange quietly and said nothing. Percy turned to Will. “I know it’s a lot to ask.”

Will cleared his throat. “Percy,” he said, “I would love to help. But I have no idea how to counsel somebody.”

A look of desperation crossed his friend’s face. “But you’ve known families of patients who’ve died. You’ve had some exposure, at least.”

“I think,” Will said, “that Jason is right. You - we - should have Annabeth talk to someone qualified. Somebody trained who can actually help her work through-”

“Annabeth will never talk to a stranger,” Percy replied. “You know how she is; she’ll die before she asks someone she doesn’t know for help.” He was alone, unmoored, helpless. “He was - He meant so much to her,” he said to Will haltingly. Then, “Please.”

Will had never turned away somebody who asked for his help.

* * *

_Into whatsoever houses I enter, I will enter to help the sick…_

_~Early Hippocratic Oath_

* * *

Nico showed up at the door with sunglasses, sleep-mussed hair and a takeaway coffee cup in each hand. Will blinked when he opened the door. “Er,” he said. Nico was dressed, classically, all in black, sleeves pushed up to his elbows with a bag slung across from shoulder to hip.

“You’re awake. Good. Time to go.”

“What?” Will asked. He was still wearing an old hoodie and his pyjama shorts even though it was nearly lunchtime. Nico looked like he didn’t give a fuck about _anything_ , and Will was losing his mind.

“We’re going to the morgue.” They stood there like that for a moment in silence. “You’re going to need to put on pants,” Nico said helpfully.

“Right.” Will held up a hand. “One second.”

He slammed the door harder than necessary in Nico’s face and leaned against it, heart pounding. Nico looked inordinately good in sunglasses. He was wearing his skull ring. He was outside Will’s door. Realisation flooded through him, cold and sobering.

He had a crush on Nico di Angelo.

But of course he did - he was astounded it had taken him this long to figure it out. The way his eyes always followed Nico around the room against his will, the sparkle that he felt when their hands brushed or Nico smiled, the fire under his skin when they were together. _I’m sixteen years old again_ , Will despaired.

(“Oh please, you were so obvious.”

“ _I_ was obvious? Remind me - who kissed who first?”)

Nico hammered on the door. “Solace, hurry up! My coffee’s getting cold and my car’s double-parked!”

Swearing under his breath, Will dragged on a pair of old jeans and his converse shoes (no, flip flops were _not_ appropriate for a morgue), dragged his fingers through his hair and grabbed his bag before opening the door again. Nico was lounging against the far wall, and handed one of the coffees over. “You drink long black, right?” he asked, then was off down the hallway before Will had a chance to respond.

He knew Will’s coffee order. He had come to the hotel to pick Will up. He was wearing sunglasses that should probably have been illegal.

He had a crush on Nico di Angelo.

_Fuck._

 

* * *

_Meet it is I set it down_

_That one may smile and smile, and be a villain…_

_~Shakespeare, “Hamlet”_

 

* * *

Will grappled with his epiphany all the way to the morgue. They drove in silence, and the radio played between them, the music soothing the cracks in the silence. Nico turned the wheel calmly and drank his coffee with one hand. Will watched as the city flew by and tried to settle his nerves.

_Little darlin’, it’s been a long, cold lonely winter…_

The morgue was an old, brick building just outside the hospital. By the time they arrived, Will’s head had stopped spinning, and he popped the lid off his coffee cup easily as Nico pulled into a reserved parking spot with ease. Will leant on the dashboard with his elbows and grinned. “Do you come here often?”

“It’s my job.”

“You have an office.”

“Sometimes, I like a practical approach.”

“You mean, you come and hang out with the cadavers.”

“There’s no _hanging out_ involved.” Nico pushed his sunglasses up onto his head and Will saw that he was rolling his eyes. “Besides, I don’t come here _that_ often.” He fished a key card from his pocket and swiped it across the lock. Will grinned at him pointedly, and he scowled. “Shut up.”

The on-duty coroner’s name was Kayla Knowles, a bright young woman with a shock of ginger and dyed green hair. She swung around on her chair when she heard the door and smiled. “Hey, Nico,” she greeted. “Who’s your friend?”

Nico gestured with his coffee cup. “This is Will.”

“Nice to meet you,” Kayla said. “Are you Nico’s latest victim?”

Will found himself answering her infectious smile with one of his own. “His latest, huh?” he asked, lifting an eyebrow. “He’s failed to tell me about the ones who came before.”

Nico flushed slightly, a rose stain against his delicate skin. He pulled the cabinet open. “There’s nothing to tell.”

Kayla grinned at Will. “Let’s see - before you, there was Michael. He was a doctor too, and a good friend of mine, but he once missed a pattern of bruising that was crucial to the case. Nico made him cry.”

“I did not make him-”

“And before that, there was Bea, who was fresh out of a science degree and had never seen an actual cadaver. Nico made her cry too.”

“ _I did not_ -”

“And before that, Zane and Corcoran, neither of whom I actually met because they only lasted three days each before Nico kicked them out-”

“Would you please stop?” Nico demanded. “You make me sound like a high school principal.”

Kayla pointed at the tray on her desk. “I already pulled Castellan’s file for you, so you can stop rummaging around in my filing cabinets. How long have you been with Olympus, Will?” Will told her and she looked surprised. “Eight months, and I’m only just meeting you?” She nudged Nico as he flipped the file open. “You’ve been keeping him all to yourself.”

Nico pursed his lips. “I’d like to see the body now.”

“Oh, touchy,” Kayla laughed teasingly, but stood up and led the way down the steps. “But I’ll excuse it. I get it, he’s cute.” She winked at Will, who was rather taken aback. Nico closed his eyes for a brief moment before shaking his head and pushing past them both. When Will looked back at Kayla, she was grinning again.

Kayla was obviously extremely thorough; she ran them through the autopsy report. “How could you _possibly_ think this is a suicide?” Nico demanded.

“I didn’t do that actual autopsy, Nico.”

“Well, you should have. Edit the report.”

“Edit the - are you insane?”

Will moved closer to Luke Castellan’s body while they bickered. He had been handsome in life, likely glowingly so. Will could imagine it; Luke’s golden hair and his flashing eyes and the smile that had charmed Annabeth and taken Thalia’s heart. The wound in his chest was as low as Will remembered. When he looked up again, both Kayla and Nico were watching him. “What does he say to you?” Nico asked in a low voice.

Will wasn’t sure if he was being serious, or just using an unusual turn of phrase, but he could read the signs of the body like words on a page. _You’re a doctor, William_ , he heard his father’s voice, _it’s in your blood_. “He says,” Will said, “that he didn’t take his own life with that gun. Somebody else took it from him.” He looked across at the others. “But who?”

Kayla folded her arms, the report clutched in her hand. “I suppose you’ll have to figure that out.”

Nico’s face was grim. “I hate it when I’m right.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you enjoyed! Please review. :)


	4. Ocean's Edge

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The detectives show off their chops.

_My life is like a stroll upon the beach,_

_As near the ocean’s edge as I can go._

_~Henry David Thoreau, “The Fisher’s Boy”_

* * *

“So, Annabeth,” Will said, putting his pen down on his pad and giving her a mock-serious expression, which made her smile, which was his intention. “How are you doing?”

“Well, I’m doing fine, Will,” Annabeth replied. “How are you?”

Will had always admired Annabeth Chase. Not back in school; he had barely known her then. She had just been a blond-haired ponytail two rows in front of him, whose essays received top marks without fail, whose name was on the honour board every year. But since he had come to work for her, he had seen her for all she was - fierce and thoughtful and wise, like the steady, swinging compass needle to Percy’s wild, reckless courage.

“I’m doing fine,” he replied quietly. “But we’re here to talk about you.”

Annabeth rolled her eyes. “I told Percy this wasn’t going to help. It isn’t your job. I’m sorry to be wasting your time.”

“It-“ Will broke off. Annabeth hated wasted time. “Helping a friend is never wasted time.” She smiled at that. “But I do realise that you don’t like to talk about how you feel.”

“What tipped you off?” she said ruefully.

Will rolled his pen back and forth across the page idly. “I will say,” he continued, “as a medical professional - and as a friend - that sometimes, it’s the things we don’t want to talk about that are the most important.”

Annabeth’s smile was back. “Will, you’ve become a philosopher.”

Will leant back against the sofa, the rug soft under his legs. “Is there anything that I _can_ help you with?”

Annabeth shrugged. “Not really. Talking about my feelings has never really helped me feel better. Not when I’m really sad about something.”

Will closed his notebook. “Then let’s talk about something happy,” he suggested. “Thalia told me a little bit about you, her and Luke, but I’d like to hear some of your memories.” Annabeth said nothing. “They don’t have to be anything too personal. How did you meet?” he prompted her.

A smile touched the edges of her face; her eyebrows dropped, her eyes crinkled, her mouth softened. “It was pretty soon after I came to _Hemitheos_ ,” she began. “I ran away from school.” Will drew his legs up and crossed his ankles, rested his elbows on his knees and listened. “Got caught on my way out by Luke and Thalia - nearly scared me half to death - but I sort of fell in with them after that. We were all angry with our parents, and that helped bring us together.”

Anger was a dangerous thing. Will had known people who were angry. Sick people and sad people and tired people and weak people and strong people. It could be a powerful motivator or a toxic substance. It needed to be controlled but, like a horse after a gunshot, it was difficult to rein in. “There was something so broken down about them,” Annabeth was continuing. “And I understood it. So we hung out together, and they looked out for me.” She looked into the distance. “It wasn’t all about anger, either. They were smart, and funny, and they would take me to ice cream parlours and parks, and give me books to read and teach me rude words.”

“They were your family.”

Annabeth had a bracelet that she wore every day. Will had stopped noticing it after a while, but she twisted it now and it gleamed a little. A simple silver thing that circled her wrist. She swiped at her face with one hand swiftly and sniffed a little. “They were.”

“And you had a good time with them.”

“They were the best years,” she said wistfully, then sniffed again. “Luke always had a million girls chasing after him, but he always stuck with Thalia and me. Thalia got into rock music and learnt the bass guitar. Luke taught us how to toast marshmallows. I made them all get library cards, which Thalia hated. She taught me how to match colours. We used to paint each other’s nails. We practiced on Luke, who pretended to hate it, but he’d always let us.” Annabeth was smiling now, and the edges of her eyes were misty. “It was the best.”

“What happened?” Will asked gently.

Annabeth sighed. “I grew out of my anger. So did Thalia, after a while.” She bit her lip. “Luke didn’t.”

“He ran away,” Will said, remembering Thalia’s words. _It broke Annabeth’s heart_. “But he was good to you, before that.”

Annabeth laughed suddenly, eyes lighting up. Her love for Percy shone from her every word sometimes, like a lit match or a jewel in the light. But there was something about childhood memories that made her glow in a different way entirely, like burnished gold; gleaming dull but precious. “He used to let me ride around on him, like a pony. He’d throw me off him when I least expected it, but he’d always catch me. Once, I climbed the apple tree behind the school - you know, the one next to the greenhouse - and Luke was standing underneath, waiting to catch me. But he turned to talk to his friend and I fell and broke my arm.” She was speaking faster and faster now, and Will held very still and let it happen. “He came in the ambulance with me, and didn’t say a word. I had my operation, and when I woke up, Luke was still there. One of the nurses told me that he cried through the whole thing while I was asleep. And he stayed in the hospital with me until I could go home.” Annabeth’s speech suddenly ground to a halt, and she stared at Will with her grey eyes huge. “He never left me.” She pressed shaking fingers to her mouth. “And I didn’t even get to say goodbye.”

Will slid around the corner of the table so that she could rest her head on his shoulder while she cried.

They sat like that for a long time, until Percy and Jason came downstairs and found them. Will let go of Annabeth’s hand, and she stood and went to Percy and buried her face in his shoulder. He put his arms around her and made a comforting noise, and both men stared at Will as if he were a miracle worker.

“What did you say to her?” they demanded as soon as Annabeth left to wash her face.

“Nothing,” Will said truthfully.

Percy’s doubt showed clear on his face. “Every time I’ve asked her to talk about her feelings, she pushes me away.”

Will leaned forward and took his pen from the table, sticking it back in his pocket. “Don’t ask her to talk about her feelings.” Jason sunk into the armchair opposite and watched Will intently. “You don’t need her to tell you she’s sad. You already know she’s sad, and so does she.” His mother had told him once that there was no point in bottling up emotions, because one way or another, they would come out. _You can force them to be a tidal wave, or let them be a river_ , she told him. _And tidal waves are too unpredictable to be safe_. “Just let her talk.” Will looked up at them, and found two gazes on him, green and blue. “Let her talk to you about Luke. About Thalia. About work. About anything she likes. How she feels will come out naturally.” He traced the edge of the table with his finger. “No need to force it.”

Jason looked exceedingly impressed. “Did your professors at medical school teach you that?”

The rush of the ocean, the gentle strum of a guitar. A gentle, cool hand against his cheek. A low, melodic voice in his ear. He, too, had been angry at his father once. Suddenly, Will felt very tired. “My mother taught me that.”

* * *

_Let me go /_

_I don’t want to be your hero…_

_~Family of the Year, “Hero”_

* * *

They rung the doorbell, then stood back and waited. There were no sounds from within the house, and Hazel could tell it made Percy nervous. She rung the doorbell again, twice, to be sure, and put a calming hand on his forearm. “It’s the middle of the day,” she told him. “They might be out.”

Percy made a low sound in his voice, pulled free of Hazel’s hand and rang the doorbell four times in rapid succession. Finally, there was a stirring in the house; a window flew open above their heads and an elfin face under a mop of chocolate curls stuck itself out. “ _What_.”

Percy didn’t miss a beat, and held out his ID, despite the fact that the young man was too far up to see it clearly. “Percy Jackson and Hazel Levesque,” he called. “Olympus Detective Agency; we’re here about Luke Castellan.”

The young man blinked owlishly for a few seconds, then ran a hand over his face. “Give me five minutes.”

From behind him inside the house, a voice yelled, _“Shut up!”_

A grimace passed over his face. “Maybe ten. Sit tight.”

Then, he withdrew his head and slammed the window down. “Where would we go?” Percy muttered and Hazel grinned. She had first met Percy when he came to Nico’s house one afternoon, a tall, tanned, green-eyed young man who had the surety of self which came from a safe and happy childhood. No wonder Nico had been drawn to him - Hazel had been too, and now they were all working together. Now, he stood easily on the doorstep, arms folded loosely, but Hazel could see the lines of tension around his eyes.

“How’s Annabeth?” she asked.

She had guessed correctly. “She’s alright,” Percy said.

“Jason told me that she and Will had a chat,” Hazel ventured.

Percy sighed. “Yesterday.”

“And it helped?”

“Seems like it helped.”

Hazel glanced towards the door. “If it helped, then why are you unhappy about it?”

“I’m not,” Percy protested and Hazel let her scepticism show on her face. Percy cleared his throat and shook his head ruefully. “You really look like Nico when you do that, you know.” He let his arms fall to his sides. “I’m pleased that Annabeth’s doing better. I really am.”

“But,” Hazel realised aloud, “you’re disappointed that you weren’t the one who helped her.” Percy glared ineffectually at her and Hazel remembered something that Nico had told her once. _He’s got a hero complex. He wants to save the whole world, even though nobody can._ “Percy,” she began, but at that very moment, the front door swung open with a bang, and there was the young man from the window, dressed in an eye-watering orange t-shirt and shorts, holding a mug.

“Hi,” he said. “I’m Travis. You said you’re here about Luke?”

The tight expression was gone from Percy’s face, replaced by smooth professionalism. “Yes, I’m Percy and this is Hazel. We understand that Luke was a friend of yours?”

“Not really,” Travis said haltingly, then gave them a shrug. “He was my half-brother.”

Hazel stared. Travis Stoll and Luke shared their tall and lean frame, they had differently coloured hair, and Travis was tan where Luke had been pale. There were certain similarities, now that she looked closer - the eyebrows, the jaw, the curve of the lip. “I’m so sorry for your loss,” she said, and Travis jerked his shoulders again.

“My brother Connor’s putting coffee on,” he told them. “Please, come inside.”

Percy gestured for Hazel to go ahead, and Hazel’s mind drifted back to their truncated conversation. _He wants to save the whole world, even though nobody can_.

It must have killed Percy, Hazel thought, when he couldn’t save Bianca.

* * *

_“Tears aren’t a woman’s only weapon.”_

_~Cersei Lannister, “Game of Thrones”_

* * *

They hadn’t cleared out Luke’s desk yet, but bunches of flowers had been laid there already. It made the whole thing look like even more of a mess, but Annabeth still stood and looked at it for a long time, and Jason let her.

Annabeth touched the nearest bouquet gently. “It’s beautiful,” she said. Jason wasn’t sure whether she was crying, so he waited what he considered a safe length of time before moving forward. Luke’s desk was messier than his own, which to Jason, was rather alarming. He moved several sheets with his index finger, spreading them out so he could see them more clearly. Mostly, they were transcripts and print-outs of articles.

“Luke was working on some articles about Britain’s relationship with America.”

Jason spun around. There was, leaning on the divider between the desks, an Asian girl with perfectly curling hair and almond eyes staring at him. “What?” he asked. The scent of pine washed over him and he blinked. She was beautiful, he realised dimly, in a model-like, untouchable way. She reminded him, a little unsettlingly, of Piper.

“Drew Tanaka,” she said, extending her hand to him. He shook it. Behind him, Annabeth made a soft noise of amusement. “Are you the detectives?”

“Yeah,” Jason said, mouth still not connecting properly with his brain.

“Annabeth Chase,” Annabeth said, reaching over Jason’s shoulder. Drew shook it less enthusiastically. “This is Jason.”

Drew smiled at him and angled her head slightly in a way that made Jason’s breath catch. “Nice to meet you, Jason.”

“We’ll have a look through Luke’s things now,” Annabeth said. “And we’ll let you know if we need any help. Thanks.”

Drew was still looking at Jason. “Alright. Hope to speak later.”

She strode off down the corridor, and Jason blinked several more times before turning to Annabeth. “Who was that?”

“Obviously a colleague of Luke’s,” Annabeth said, shoving a lock of her blond hair behind her ear. She glanced up with half a grin. “Don’t worry,” she said. “I won’t tell Piper.”

“About what?” Jason asked confusedly.

Annabeth stared at him for a moment, then shook her head. “Oh, Jason,” she said, and she was grinning fully now. Jason had the impression that he had missed something big, but Annabeth’s grey eyes were alight with amusement, and she was such a dear friend to him that he would have endured a thousand strange encounters with Luke’s strange colleague Drew to see her genuinely smile like that.

* * *

Neither Travis nor Connor Stoll had seen Luke for a good half-year, and could not say that he had been behaving oddly at all. “He was just…Luke,” Connor said when Hazel asked how he had been at their last meeting. “Smiling and cheerful and laughing, like always.”

“So he didn’t seem any different,” Percy repeated, and they shook their heads in an identical fashion.

“Nope,” Travis said. “Sorry if that’s not helpful.”

“Please don’t apologise,” Hazel said immediately. “Were you close with Luke?”

Travis was the elder of the two, and it seemed as if he were in charge, but Connor was the one who considered the question seriously. “Not really,” he said. “Maybe when we were younger.”

“And you didn’t see him very often?”

“We met every half year,” Connor said. “Since school ended. Dad came and saw us a few times, but that stopped after a while.” He hesitated for a moment, glanced over at Travis, then looked at them. “Dad was always busy with work.”

Hazel’s mother had kept her far away from her own father and the society he was involved in, but Percy nodded as if he understood. “Had he spoken to your family recently at all?”

They both shrugged. “Not that I know of,” Travis said.

They chatted for a little while longer about Luke, but Hazel couldn’t see anything that would be relevant to the investigation. As they stood to leave, Connor stopped them with a question. “How’s his mother?”

Both of them stared at Hazel, and she saw they had Luke’s summer-blue eyes. Percy answered for her. “She’s not doing too well.”

Travis shook his head again. “That poor woman.” He looked at them fiercely. “Find out who did this.”

Hazel nodded, her throat tight. A horrid image flashed through her mind, of herself, seated before detectives pleading for them to find the perpetrator of her brother’s murder. She shuddered slightly, a ripple through her frame. Nico had lost a sister already. The whole situation was too horrible to contemplate. Once again, Percy spoke. “We’ll do our best for Luke. That’s a promise.”

* * *

_Between my finger and my thumb_

_The squat pen rests, snug as a gun._

_~Seamus Heaney, “Digging”_

* * *

“This is incredible,” Jason said, heaving the last stack of papers into a cardboard box. “For such an impressive reporter, Luke’s desk contents are incredibly dull.”

Annabeth made a noise of agreement. “Well,” she said. “Detective work can’t all be epiphanies and car chases.”

Jason brushed his hands together. “That’s the last of it. Shall we call it a day?”

Annabeth straightened up, defeated. “I suppose.” She glanced around. “What should we do with the flowers?”

Jason picked up the bunch that was nearest to him. It was a beautiful arrangement; white and yellow long-stemmed flowers that emitted a delicious scent, wrapped in lilac paper. A white ribbon was wrapped near the base. Frank had told Jason once that white was the Chinese colour of mourning. He lifted the flowers to his nose and inhaled again, the sweet smell overwhelming him for a moment. _Be at peace, Luke_.

“Jason,” Annabeth said. Her voice came from down near his feet and he lowered the bunch of flowers. She was crouched down beside the desk, and her voice was flat and urgent.

“What?” he asked immediately, leaning over her.

She straightened up and as he deposited the flowers back on the far side of the desk, she tipped the contents of a container - the wastepaper basket - onto the surface. “Annabeth,” he protested. She had separated an envelope from the scraps and the chewing gum wrappers, but sifted through the rest of the pile feverishly, searching for something Jason was unsure of. “What are you doing?”

She turned her face up to him, a mixture of fear and exhilaration and shock and horror mixing there, and he gripped her shoulder reflexively. “Look,” she told him, and pointed to the envelope. He opened it cautiously and found several scraps of paper inside. “It’s all torn up, but I read some of them, and I think-”

He stopped listening to her as he spread the little shreds of paper out and ordered them. There was Luke’s name, and a full stop and a _you_ with a capital ‘y’, and a comma. Jason ordered them as grammatically correct, and then filled in the missing pieces himself with an ink pen. When he worked intensely, there was often a buzzing sound in his ears, and it wasn’t until he was finished that he realised what the sentence actually read.

_Luke Castellan - this is your last warning. If you do not cease all investigation at once, you will be taken in. There will be no guarantee of your safety or your life. Do as we say, and you will be left alive. Proceed wisely._

Jason stared in horror at the scrap of paper. Next to him, Annabeth was shaking slightly. “Oh, my God.”

Before she could say anything else, Jason darted out of the cubicle and grabbed hold of the first person he saw. “Ow,” Drew Tanaka exclaimed before realising who it was. “Oh,” she said in a different tone. “Hi.”

“I need to know when Luke’s wastepaper basket was last emptied,” he said forcefully.

“What?” Drew said, drawing back from him. “What are you talking about?”

“His wastepaper basket,” he repeated, then realised that he was gripping her arm. He released her, but maintained close proximity. “When did it get emptied?”

A young man with glasses had overhead them. “They get emptied once a week, but I saw Luke carry his down a couple of times in between.” Jason turned sharply. The man wilted a little under the intensity of his gaze. “Luke hand-wrote a lot. It built up pretty quickly.”

“Did he always empty his own basket, or was it only recently?”

The young man’s brow furrowed as he tried to remember. “I saw him do it the last few months,” he said finally. “I can’t remember before that.”

Jason gripped the flimsy plastic divider that blocked off the cubicle. “Thank you,” he said genuinely. “Thank you _very_ much.”

Both Drew and the other man looked utterly bewildered, but Jason was already turning away. Annabeth had tucked the scrap back into the envelope and put it into her coat pocket. She had been listening to their conversation. “We need to go back,” she said firmly. “I’ll ring Percy. You drive.”

Jason grabbed his own coat and followed her out of the office. The scent of pine which had once again engulfed him as he stood next to Drew wafted away.

* * *

_If ignorant, both of your enemy and yourself, you are certain to be in peril._

_~Sun Tau, “The Art of War”_

* * *

“You did _what_?”

Half of Will expected Percy to look angry, but the dark-haired young man was grinning even as he tried to frown. “Leo,” Percy continued, struggling in his disapproving tone. “You know we’re not really allowed to do that sort of stuff, right?”

Leo cracked his knuckles. “Whatever you say, chief.”

“Don’t _call_ me-”

“So after I cracked through his security - which, by the way, was piss-weak - I looked through his files, and-”

“Remind me again how you got the actual laptop,” Percy said, who looked both resigned and amused. Leo’s gaze flashed like lightning over at Frank before returning to the screen.

“Er…”

Leo’s eyes were fast, but Percy was faster. “Frank?” he asked. The man in question was hovering by the sofa, guilt growing on his face by the second. “What did you do?”

“I went to the police station and told them that I was May Castellan’s lawyer,” Frank admitted after a brief pause. “Which she completely knew about!” he added. “She said it was fine for me to look at his personal effects.”

“Look at?” Percy said.

Frank pursed his lips at Percy. “You should have seen the state of the evidence - they weren’t even labelled! It was a disgrace; I doubt they know what was down there in the first place.” He waved his hands in the air. Will felt the urge to grin as well, but tamped it down. “The police officer who was supposed to supervise me disappeared off to lunch, and I knew nobody would miss it…” He shrugged helplessly. “Well, nobody told me that I _couldn’t_ take it away with me.”

“Frank,” Percy laughed. “You’re a _lawyer_.”

Frank looked miserable. “I know.”

“Oh, cheer up, Frank,” Leo said briskly. “Think about Hazel’s reaction - the ladies love a bad boy.” Frank’s cheeks stained red and he dropped his eyes in mortification at the statement; Leo cackled.

“Well, we’re through the looking glass now,” Percy said. “Fire it up, Leo. Let’s have a look.”

“You got it, chief.” Percy made a face at Will, whose self-restraint crumbled, giving way to a smile. “A bunch of old articles that he’s written…A bunch of old articles other people have written…A bunch of emails to a bunch of colleagues-”

“Emails?” Percy asked.

Leo nodded. “Just mundane stuff. ‘Send me this link.’ ‘Forward me that photo.’ ‘Why are you behind on your deadlines, you imbecilic excuse for a reporter?’” Will stood up to make himself some tea, and then stood behind Leo, looking over his shoulder at the screen. Leo scrolled faster and faster, flipping through folders. “Bunch of bank statements…audio files… _oh_.”

Leo’s frantic file-surfing came to an abrupt halt, his fingers hovering over the track pad. It was a photograph, self-taken by Luke, of him and two girls. All of them were in their teens, dressed in blue and white uniforms, laughing. To the very left of the photograph was a girl with Jason’s blue eyes. A younger version of Thalia Grace, with shockingly long hair tied back in a loose ponytail, leaning forward into the camera, eyes sparkling with mirth. Luke was on the very right, holding the camera in one hand and using his other arm to hold the third girl against him. “Annabeth,” Will murmured without intention; then Percy was off the sofa and crowding in beside him to look as well.

Annabeth was smaller in the photograph, and the lines of her face were softer with both childhood and laughter. Her eyes were squeezed shut in an expression of absolute joy, strands of blond hair escaping in front of her face. Sunlight streaked the photograph, and Luke was pinning her to him with one hand, pressing his lips to her forehead. The golden glow of the past.

Will held his breath and waited for Percy to speak. Something about Luke bothered Percy; whether it was the person himself, or the relationship with Annabeth, Will couldn’t tell. Either way, Percy never let it show for more than a moment. “Can I have a copy of that photograph?” he asked Leo in a low voice. “For Annabeth?”

Leo’s voice was uncharacteristically soft as he answered. “Sure thing, chief.”

Percy cleared his throat. “Thanks. Ok. Keep looking. We want anything that seems out of place or dangerous. Anyone could have looked on this computer before us.”

The Sun set as Leo worked, and Will settled on the armchair next to him, a medical journal in his hands. Percy lay across the couch, feet dangling off one end, a hand thrown over his face. From the way his chest rose and fell, Will could tell that he was awake. Occasionally, he would mutter quietly to himself. At last, Leo’s tapping and typing stopped. “Is Frank still here?” he asked hoarsely.

Percy let his hand slip off his face. “He’s upstairs with Hazel. Why?”

“I think I’ve found something,” Leo said, biting his nails as his eyes scanned furiously across the screen. “But I need him to come and help me read it.”

Percy didn’t bother going up the stairs; just stood at the bottom and hollered up, hands cupped around his mouth. Frank descended in alarm, followed by Hazel and Nico. Leo thrust the laptop into Frank’s hands. “What does it mean?”

Frank read slower than Leo did, kneeling on the rug and leaning forward. Hazel’s knee went up and down like a jackhammer until Nico put his hand on it; he murmured something low to her and she smiled sheepishly at him. At last, Frank sat back on his heels and let out a long breath that was almost a whistle. “This is intense stuff. He had this on his personal computer?”

Leo did not look at all abashed. “It was in an encrypted file more secure than the actual laptop. I had to hack through quite a bit to get at it.”

Frank’s eyebrows rose even further. “Did Luke study law at all?”

“Not that I know of.” Percy was taut and straight, like a living statue in the last light. “What did you find?”

“He was reading up on illegal trading - about criminal breaches, smuggling illegal goods. Drugs, weapons, money; that sort of thing.” Frank looked up, wariness all in his eyes. “Was it for work?”

Percy’s mouth was one straight line. “I don’t know.”

“Luke was writing about foreign policy,” Will remembered, then hesitated as all the heads in the room turned towards him. He still wasn’t too confident on anything unrelated to medicine, but he continued on. “We saw the other day under his byline; could it be related-”

Leo was already checking. “That was way before this,” he announced. “At least six months. There are some other articles after that date on the same topic, but it’s all by other journalists.”

“It still might have been for his work,” Hazel pointed out fairly.

“Why else would he have been interested in this stuff?” Frank said. It was intended as a reassuring statement, but it made a cold shiver run down Will’s spine.

“Where’s Annabeth?” Hazel asked.

“She’s with Jason,” Percy replied.

“Are we going to tell her that Luke was looking into the legality of stuff like drug smuggling and arms dealing?” Leo asked, his eyes huge. _Arms dealing_. The phrase made Will feel slightly nauseated. The whole situation bothered him more than he would care to admit. His classmate Austin had done a year of research on effective medical aid in war. The pictures that he had shown Will, of wounds from guns, from grenades, from tanks, were more horrible than anything Will had ever seen. _Humans did this_ , Austin had told him, his hands shaking. Despite Annabeth and Thalia’s fond recollections of Luke, dealing in weapons was not something Will associated with decency.

There was a gentle hand on his elbow. “Will,” Nico said, frowning. “Are you alright? You look a bit pale.”

“I’m fine,” he said, a little more harshly than he intended. Nico drew back, surprised. “What are you going to tell Annabeth?”

Percy looked across at Will, indecision written all over him. At that moment, as if by some divine timing, his phone began to ring.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you enjoyed! Please review. :)


	5. Down From the Hills

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The beginning of love, and all its complications.

_Those at the top of the mountain didn’t fall there._

_~Anonymous_

* * *

They argued into the night, tossing theories back and forth. Piper returned from her day trip to Edinburgh to find them all in disarray; Percy and Annabeth practically at each other’s throats, Leo face down in the sofa and Jason ineffectually putting his hands up as a peacekeeping measure. Will found himself, once again, the silent observer, as Piper slung her bag across the room onto Leo’s legs and shouted at the top of her lungs for them to be quiet.

Annabeth shot one last dirty look at Percy and stormed up the steps. He followed her immediately, and their office door slammed shut. “Lovers’ quarrel?” Piper asked into the subsequent silence.

“Something like that,” Frank said nervously. He, too, had been quiet for most of the evening.

They ordered a pizza and filled Piper in on everything; her eyes grew wider and wider. “Wow,” she said, a slice of pepperoni forgotten in her hand. “How horrible. No wonder Annabeth’s so upset.”

“We think there have been more,” Jason said from beside her. “More of those threats. But there’s no way to prove it.”

Piper took a bite of her pizza. “And Percy thinks that Luke might have actually been involved in some kind of illegal operation, but Annabeth thinks that Luke was just tracking one for his work, and they got into an argument about it?”

Jason looked absolutely stunned. “How did you know that?”

Piper rolled her eyes. “By paying attention to other people’s lives.”

“Hey!” Jason protested, but Piper was already ploughing on.

“So now what do we do?”

Hazel leant forward. “Well,” she began, a little hesitantly, “I had a thought.” Jason nodded encouragingly at her, and she continued with a little more confidence. “There were a bunch of encrypted legal files, but I looked through all of Luke’s other files as well.”

“A girl after Annabeth’s own heart,” Leo grinned.

“There were a bunch of redacted bank statements and documents as well, but you can read bits and pieces - maybe if we put them all together-”

“A paper trail!” Jason crowed triumphantly. “I’ll start the printer up. Leo, bring the laptop.”

At Jason’s words, Leo appeared to shake off the lethargy that was surrounding him, and jumped to his feet, practically crackling with energy. Hazel and Piper exchanged a glance. “I’ll bring Jason’s board,” Hazel said, and she and Frank went up the steps until only Piper, Will and Nico were left.

Piper finished off her slice of pizza and reached for the garlic bread. “They love a puzzle, that lot,” she said to Will. “Such nerds.”

They’d done missing persons, injuries, attacks, childhood disappearances, but this was the first murder in Will’s eight months at the Agency. He loved the work that they did; it was worthy and humane, and Will loved a puzzle too. But they had all seen Luke Castellan’s body, lying amidst the dust and the blood, and there was something odd about calling it a _puzzle_.

Belatedly, he remembered, “I’m supposed to go to work at the hospital tomorrow.”

Nico glanced across at him, and poured himself some more coffee. “You can sleep on the sofa. We could probably use your help tonight.”

Will called in sick the next day.

* * *

He did take a nap on the sofa, and afterwards, only Frank was awake. The man looked both elated and exhausted, shadows under his gleaming eyes, dark hair mussed. “Have you been awake all night?” Will asked, his voice croaky from sleep. Frank put a finger against his lips and pointed to Hazel, who was curled up like a cat in the white armchair. Her dark curls fanned out around her face, and Will saw her resemblance to Nico.

(“Yes, Hazel’s my half-sister.”

“Which half?”

“Which half do you think?”)

“Come and look at this.”

Will rose groggily from the sofa. The Sun was coming up, in that slow, cold way, touching every corner and edge, turning them to gold. Frank pointed to the piece of paper on the left. “As far as I can tell, this was a package from London. It went to America.” The next piece. “This one from America to Spain.” Along the row he went, from Spain to Morocco to Tunisia to Greece to Turkey to Syria - “And then, it disappears,” Frank whispered, spreading the papers. “This is only one trail.”

“Luke was tracking shipments,” Will realised, leaning in. “From London, to all over the world.” Some trails ended in Hong Kong, others in Japan, and Austria, Ukraine, Somalia, Saudi Arabia. Together, they dragged a copy of the world map up onto Jason’s whiteboard, and marked every trail in a different colour.

“My God,” Frank whispered when they were finished.

It was an enormous spider’s web of colour, leaping back and forth between continents and countries, clawing the entire globe like a huge net. “What was he up to?” Will said, stunned.

They stared at it, while the Sun came up, casting buttery beams over the sprawling map and its dark, damning lines.

* * *

_It’s not always rainbows and butterflies /_

_It’s compromise that moves us along._

_~Maroon 5, “She Will Be Loved”_

* * *

After they had argued a little longer, Annabeth had fallen asleep, but Percy stayed awake, staring at the shadows on the walls moving in the sphere of light from his desk lamp. He had thought the fact that Luke had been important to Annabeth was something he had accepted, but perhaps he was mistaken. He had also thought that Annabeth’s affection for the other man had waned over time, but now he wasn’t so sure.

Annabeth couldn’t be impartial. The was the only thing he knew for sure.

And that if he tried to stop her from participating in the investigation, she would murder him. That he knew as well.

The few times Percy had met Luke, the golden-haired young man had been cheerful and friendly. But there was something in the way his eyes turned, the sharp of his gaze, the turn of his lips; a gut instinct that Percy had which made him suspicious. There was a darkness in Luke that Annabeth did not seem to see.

Or perhaps it was his imagination.

It hurt his head to think about.

Instead, he opened his laptop and scrolled through some notes he had made after speaking with the Stoll brothers and waited for Annabeth to wake.

“What are you looking at?”

Her voice startled him, slightly hoarse from sleep, and he slid his glass of water towards her on the table. “Just some notes I made.”

Annabeth was watching him speculatively. “I’m not going to say sorry.”

Percy glanced up at her. “I assumed as much.”

“Neither are you.”

Percy shut the lid of his laptop gently. “Are you asking me? Or telling me?”

Annabeth propped herself up a little onto her elbow. Her hair spiralled down over her upper arm and Percy let his eyes linger on it for a moment. “Asking you, I suppose.”

“I’m always sorry about things that hurt you,” Percy said honestly. “And I know that this whole situation with Luke does. I’m sorry, too, that I have no idea what to do about it.” He looked across at her. “But I’m not going to apologise for doing my job.”

Annabeth’s eyes had softened a little. The grey of her eyes came from her father, but the intensity of it was all her mother’s. Annabeth’s mother frightened Percy more than anyone else he had met. “No,” she murmured quietly. Then, she shifted back a tiny bit on the sofa.

He knew what it meant. Setting aside his computer, he shifted so that he was sitting face to face with Annabeth, then leant so close that he could feel her breath on his face. “So what are we going to do?”

Annabeth’s smile was amused. “I told you when we first started dating that I was never going to make things easy for you.”

“I remember.”

“I’m not going to make this easy for you either.”

“Of course not.”

“So you’re just going to have to deal with it, aren’t you?”

Percy smiled. “That, or we could just go our separate ways,” he teased.

Annabeth put one hand around the back of his neck, pulling him impossibly closer. “Would be a bit complicated. My name’s on the lease for the house too, remember?” She grinned. “And who would get custody of Nico?”

Percy pulled back a little so that he could run a hand over her hair, pulling through the tangles. “Eh, I was never too fond of him anyway.”

“Liar. Leo?”

“He’s Jason and Piper’s responsibility.”

“And who gets Jason?”

Percy pretended to consider this for a moment, trailing one finger down her jawline to her chin. “Alright,” he conceded. “I guess I’ll have to put up with you for a little bit longer.”

Annabeth flipped from her side to her back, and pulled him so that his entire torso was above her, eyes sparkling. “What a shame.”

* * *

_Practice doesn’t make perfect._

_Practice reduces the imperfections._

_~Toba Beta_

* * *

When they descended the stairs, everybody was already awake. Will glanced over at them. Percy looked a little happier than the night before. “You two sorted out your differences?” Piper asked, a grin in her voice.

Percy flushed and shuffled away from Annabeth slightly, who only rolled her eyes at her boyfriend, then grinned at Piper. “Sorted out thoroughly.”

Hazel chuckled aloud and Leo winked at Percy who swatted him across the back of the head. “Well,” Jason said, who looked almost as embarrassed as Percy himself, “that’s good, because we’ve got some things to discuss.”

They turned the board so that Percy and Annabeth could see; explained how they had assembled it. Percy glanced over, and Will felt his face grow hot under the inspection. “Well,” Percy said, his green eyes sparkling. “Perhaps we’ll make detectives out of you two yet.”

Will shook his head with embarrassment, and Frank answered for them both. “No, thanks. Already got a day job.”

“So this means we were right,” Leo said. “There was something big going down out of London.”

Percy ran his fingers over the map, tracing the marked lines, ruled in Will’s careful hand. “This is good work, you guys.”

“It was mostly Frank,” Hazel said.

“It was Hazel’s idea,” Frank replied. “And Will helped.”

“You guys are too cute,” Leo told them.

“Percy,” Jason said urgently. “What do you think it means?”

“They were smuggling something,” Percy said, almost to himself. Will glanced around. Hazel was lying on her front across the sofa; Jason was leaning over the top of the armchair; Piper was tucked up under him, staring at the board; Nico folded his arms loosely against his chest; Annabeth inspected the board intensely. They all had that fire-bright fever in their eyes. “Something big. And Luke was either tracking it, or he was in on it. Either way, he didn’t bring it to the police, so-”

“Doesn’t mean we need to assume the worst,” Annabeth interjected, and there was a collective sigh. _Here we go again_ , Nico’s gaze seemed to communicate as his eyes met Will’s.

“Our job is to assume the worst,” Percy snapped. “Annabeth-”

“Our job is to make the best possibly conclusion from the facts,” Annabeth replied.

“Guys,” Jason interjected, “are we sure that this is the most productive-”

“And the facts are these,” Percy said, gesturing to the board.

“The fact is that I knew Luke,” Annabeth said, gripping her hands so tightly together that her knuckles went white. “And I know for a fact that he wouldn’t get into any dodgy crime ring.”

“No,” Percy said, irritation in his voice. “That isn’t fact. That’s your _opinion_.”

“I’m perfectly capable of separating fact from opinion,” Annabeth said sharply.

“Apparently not when it comes to Luke,” Percy said loudly, then gritted his teeth. “I need coffee.” And with that, he turned on his heel and strode out into the hallway.

“Thought you two had sorted it out,” Piper said after a silence, an eyebrow raised towards Annabeth.

The blond woman’s face was a little remorseful and a lot grim. “We did,” she said. “We agreed to disagree.”

* * *

_“Friendship is constant in all other things."_

_~William Shakespeare, ”Much Ado About Nothing”_

* * *

“So,” Will said as they stepped out into the crisp morning air. “Have Annabeth and Percy ever disagreed so…strongly before?”

Nico snorted. “They disagree all the time.” The slight chill tinged his pale cheeks pink and Will looked straight ahead at the street to avoid staring. _A woman walking with her dog. Two young girls in matching red gumboots, followed by their father. A man seated on a bus bench, drinking his coffee._ Nico was continuing. “Percy says things and Annabeth disagrees. It’s kind of how they work.” Will put his hands in his pockets as Nico talked. “But this is a first.”

“Because of Luke.” Nico hummed in agreement. “What was he like?” Will asked curiously.

Nico looked surprised at the question. “I only met him once.”

“And?”

Nico pursed his lips. “He was fine.”

Will chuckled. “What a glowing commendation.”

“He didn’t pay much attention to me, really.”

“His mistake.” It slipped out before Will could help it, and he felt colour flood his cheeks as soon as he realised. Nico was staring at him, but he refused to look over. _A runner with a black puffer vest. A mother and daughter hand in hand._ At last, Nico cleared his throat.

“We’re here.”

The coffee shop was on the corner, orange and brown and decorated as if from a Scandinavian fairytale. It was a little tacky, in Will’s opinion, but Nico opened the door and the delicious smell of coffee rolled over him, and all his thoughts about the shop facade vanished. It was warm and bright and cheery, and there was a young woman behind the counter who Will thought might be an empress in an apron. “Hey, Reyna,” Nico greeted.

“Hello, Nico,” she smiled. “Usual order?”

Nico gave her a thumbs up. “Extra cinnamon for Piper, and also whatever Will wants.”

Reyna’s dark eyes swept over to Will, who shifted slightly. She reminded him of a bird, watchful and wary and powerful and proud. “Hi,” he said nervously. “Will Solace.”

“ _Si_ ,” she replied, taking a paper cup from the stack next to her. “I know who you are.” She looked him up and down once more. “What would you like?”

Will ordered a long black and waited for the coffees to be made while Nico went to the bathroom. “Nico’s a very private person, you know.” Will looked up. Reyna frothed the milk and spoke again. “He doesn’t let people in easily.”

“How did he let you in?” Will asked her.

Reyna’s eyes flashed around the cafe; there was no line, and several of the tables were occupied by customers all staring at their phones. “I was involved in a case of the Agency’s a while back. Nico and I travelled across the country together. I got to know him, a little.” Reyna gave him a sharp look. “Like I said. He doesn’t let many people in, and for good reason.”

Reyna’s handwriting was bold. She wrote Piper’s name on the lid of one coffee cup, Jason’s on another, then Percy’s, then Frank’s. “Why are you telling _me_?” Will asked her.

The bathroom door swung open and Nico emerged, shaking droplets from his fingertips. “There’s no more paper towels in the mens’ bathroom,” he announced at large. Reyna nodded in acknowledgment, and turned back to her work and Will understood that she was not going to say any more.

* * *

_‘Cause you’re all that’s safe, and you’re all that’s warm /_

_In my restless heart._

_~Passenger, “Feather on the Clyde”_

* * *

They sat near the window while Reyna went back into the kitchen for some more coffee beans. “She was Jason’s friend originally,” Nico spoke into the silence. “They did some scouts thing together after school. And then we did some business for Annabeth’s mum, and Reyna was involved in that too.”

“She’s a friend,” Will observed.

“A good friend,” Nico replied, then glanced up at Will. “Are you coming to the funeral?”

Luke’s funeral. Will cleared his throat. “If it’s appropriate, I’ll be there.”

“Of course it’s appropriate,” Nico answered.

“I’d like to pay my respects.”

Nico propped his chin in his hand and gazed at Will. “You became one of us so easily,” he said abruptly, and Will blinked. “I know you went to school with Percy and Annabeth, but they never mentioned you before you showed up, and then suddenly you were here, and you just fit right in.”

“I did?” Will said, startled.

“It’s pretty remarkable,” Nico murmured. “You made us all like you, and you didn’t even know you were doing it.” He used his other hand to trace a pattern of grain on the wooden table, while Will watched. “Like moths to a flame.”

“I think you’re overestimating me,” Will said, a little uneasily.

“Do you want to know something about people like you?” Nico asked. Will had absolutely no idea where any of this was coming from. “You just have this…this light inside you, and you never have to even try to keep it alight. It’s just there.”

Will was utterly speechless at this. His old college roommate, Cecil, had gotten a little like this at time - usually a few drinks deep, and in a weepy mood. “Nico-”

“People like you are lucky,” Nico continued, in his same quiet voice. “You’re lucky to be like that.” There was a song playing from the radio on the counter, soft and rolling and blue and grey. Nico’s eyes lowered. “Even though it’s untouchable.”

_…And her current just like my blood flows_

_Down from the hills, 'round aching bones to my restless heart…_

Will, his thoughts glazed over, looked at Nico. There was something sad about him, some melancholy smudging the edges of his frame like one of Hazel’s watercolours. It was not vibrant or tearful; it moved with him, like a shadow. Sorrow like a watermark on a photograph, pressed into his person.

_Untouchable._ Will unclasped his hands slowly and reached across the table. Nico flinched slightly when their fingers touched, but he did not pull away. Nico’s hand was cool to the touch, his skin soft, and it was the first time Will had touched him intentionally. There was electricity under his skin, crackling and bright. _Help_ , Will thought, but he didn’t let go.

Nico’s eyes were huge, but his voice was mild when he spoke. “I don’t really like it when people touch me normally.”

The moment was broken; the electricity melted away. “Sorry,” Will said, mortified, but as he moved to pull his hand back, Nico’s other hand came down over it to hold it in place.

“I don’t mind.”

There was something blinding Will from within. A warmth that was almost painful, and sweet all at once, all aglow. He would have liked to touch Nico’s face as well, but he was afraid to shatter the moment.

As they departed the coffee shop, Reyna gave Will a pointed look, half knowing, half warning. As his hand brushed Nico’s, Will felt that glow kindle in his chest again, and felt like maybe, he knew as well.

* * *

“You’re still living in a hotel room,” Katie stared at him as they crossed the hospital lobby. “Will, it’s been nine months.”

“Nearly nine months,” Will corrected. “And yes, I’m still living in a hotel room.”

“The bills must be sky-high,” she said, wide-eyed. Will thought of his father, of Apollo’s irreverence for sky-high bills, and kept his mouth shut. “Why don’t you just find an apartment? Or a room-mate?” Katie took a drink of her coffee and pressed the lift button. “I’d offer, but I know the kind of company you keep, so I’m assuming you have better offers.”

Will hummed noncommittally and they entered the elevator, nodding at a few of their colleagues. “Too complicated to think about,” he told her, shaking his head. Percy and Annabeth lived together, as did Jason, Piper and Leo. Frank, Hazel and Nico all lived alone. Will highly doubted the former two would want a roommate, and the thought of moving in with Nico both thrilled and terrified him. “Tell me about the patients instead.”

They had spent the entire day previous discussing Luke’s case.

_“I’ve looked through every file,” Leo said, flopping forwards onto the sofa. “I’ve hacked every email, I’ve run searches through every aspect of his life. I doubt there was a Google search that Luke Castellan did that I’m not aware of.”_

_“No need to be dramatic,” Jason remarked mildly._

_Leo turned his head and opened one eye to look at Percy. “I can’t find a single iota of information that suggested Luke was actually involved in something illegal. It was just a lot of tracking.”_

_Annabeth said nothing, but the triumphant expression that flickered over her face was enough to show what was on her mind. Hazel’s face was grave. “It must have been something very, very dangerous.”_

_Will felt a thrill of fear go up his spine._

Afterwards, they had dinner, all settled around the glass coffee table. Nico had sat beside Will, their knees touching, and Nico leaning into him slightly as he listened to the conversation. Even with his brain overworked, Will had lain awake in bed for a long time after that.

The list of patients would probably have reached the floor if it were one continuous sheet of paper. “Finding a roommate’s too complicated to think about?” Katie asked with a raised eyebrow. “Well, this is going to be a long day, then.”

Will finished his coffee with a single swallow, and sighed. “I think I could use this kind of long day.”

* * *

_I can’t go back to yesterday because I was a different person then…_

~Lewis Carroll, “Alice in Wonderland”

* * *

It was indeed a long day, but he revelled in the work. He had a late dinner with his colleagues, then went for a run in the dark. Afterwards, he collapsed into bed, exhausted, and his eyes fluttered closed of their own accord. For the first time in weeks, his thoughts were not filled with thoughts of Nico di Angelo’s marble skin and star-dark eyes, but of how much he truly, truly loved being a doctor.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you enjoyed! Please review. :)


	6. Lay Down in Green Pastures

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Luke is laid to rest. Will meets Luke's father, and also Nico's.

_Unable are the loved to die. For love is immortality._

_~Emily Dickinson_

* * *

Will’s father was entirely too happy about the funeral. “I know you have to wear a black suit,” he told Will over the phone. “But there are a few different cuts - and I ordered some other colours for your general use, so the tailor will show you some fabrics-”

“Luke Castellan is dead,” Will cut his father off sternly.

Apollo had studied business at university. His sun-bright charisma paired with a surprising ruthlessness had made him one of the best. But, for reasons that Will did not care to know, Apollo had decided to become a doctor. _Medicine with a little business on the side_. That was what Will’s father described his occupation as.

Apollo was still talking. “It’s a shame about that boy. Hermes is absolutely devastated. Say hello to him for me, will you?”

“Probably not,” Will said honestly.

“The tailor,” Apollo continued. “Four o’clock. Try not to be late. They probably won’t mind, but it’s bad manners, you know.”

So here he was, in a cut black suit that likely cost more than he made at the hospital in a whole year, his hair combed back, sunglasses covering his eyes. “Nice suit,” Nico had said, dressed almost identically. Will averted his eyes from Nico’s sunglasses, and recited the twelve cranial nerves to re-focus. “You look good.”

Nico said it so quietly that Will almost missed it. _So do you_. “Always good to hear that before a funeral,” Will said aloud, and Nico gave him that small smile which made him want to grin wildly - _a little inappropriate for a funeral, Will_ , he chided himself.

“Oh, _fuck_.” Jason’s face was slack with disbelief, and Will turned to his look in his direction.

Nico gave a hoarse gasp. “Oh, no fucking _way_.”

“What?” Piper asked, leaning around Jason’s form to see. “Oh, bloody hell.”

Annabeth was watching the open casket procession distractedly. “What is it now?” she asked wearily. “Man with a gun? Woman giving birth? Alien invasion?”

Jason sounded utterly floored. “It’s my _dad_.”

“And mine,” Percy said, open-mouthed.

“And _mine_ ,” Nico added.

This got even Annabeth’s attention. Their little cluster by the tree watched as Zeus, Poseidon and Hades strode towards the coffin, the crowd parting before them like waves. Alone in the front row, Hermes sat, looking like a model for casual suits. “What are they _doing_ here?” Hazel demanded to the group in general.

“They’re here because Luke was family,” a voice said, and Thalia appeared before them in a long-sleeved black dress with a lace hem. “And it looks good for them to be here. Hi, everyone.”

Jason practically flung himself at her, dislodging Piper and making Thalia stumble a little under his weight. “Where have you been?” he demanded. “Why haven’t you been answering the phone, or texts, or email, or the door-”

“Jason,” Thalia said, “I just needed some time.” She gave him a final squeeze and pushed him away. “How are you all? Doing ok?” They gave a general murmur of assent and Thalia swept her eyes over each of them once, as if to be sure. “Alright, you lot,” she said, using her chin to gesture at Jason, Percy, Hazel and Nico. “Go talk to your dads.”

“Why?” Nico asked, wrinkling his nose.

“Because,” Thalia said with a light tap to Nico’s forehead, “they’re your fathers. That’s reason enough. And you lot,” she said to Will and the others. “Give me a minute with Annabeth.”

“Yes, ma’am,” Leo said, uncharacteristically solemn.

They went towards the rows of seats, and when Will looked back, Thalia had her arm around Annabeth, theirs heads together, dark and light, and both women were crying.

* * *

Nico took his sunglasses off after taking a seat. “Aren’t you going to talk to your father?” Will asked. Nico’s face was pinched, his cheekbones prominent.

“No,” he said shortly.

“No?” Will asked softly. “Why not?”

“Because,” Nico said, with the air of explaining to a very stupid child, “this is a funeral, and I am disinclined to indulge his desire for a heartfelt family reunion at what is actually an emotional event for lots of people.”

“I think that’s the longest sentence I’ve ever heard you say.”

Nico sighed and pressed his fingers into his forehead. “If I’d known he would be here, I wouldn’t have come.”

The phrase _inappropriate for a funeral_ flashed in his mind again. “Why not?” he asked, then cursed internally. Apparently, he didn’t do appropriate around Nico, who did not respond. The candles were being lit. Will clasped his hands together. “Neeks, he’s your father.”

Thalia was ascending to the podium, a piece of paper clutched in her hand. “Will,” Nico said, forced calm. “I appreciate it, but you really have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“I don’t,” Will said in an undertone, and swiftly. Thalia was getting ready to speak. “But I know that you only get one dad.”

This time, Nico ignored him. Thalia’s head was ringed in light from the windows. She was solemn and statuesque and stately, like grief pressed in stone. She gave her eulogy, and the entire congregation wept.

* * *

Hades was one of the most terrifying people Will had ever seen in his life, and possibly one of the most handsome.

(“You never told me you thought Hades was handsome.”

“I’ve told you that you look like him, haven’t I?”)

“Hello, sir,” Leo said nervously. He had clearly only noticed the terrifying. “How did you find the service?”

“Very moving,” Hades said dispassionately. “May I have a moment with my son?”

“Yep,” Leo said immediately. “I need a drink, anyway.” He patted Nico’s shoulder on the way past. Piper took a glass of champagne from a passing waiter and followed. Will hesitated.

“It’s fine,” Nico said to him, and Will departed under Hades’ raised eyebrow.

Piper was waiting for him over by the bar. She had plaited her hair down over one shoulder, with a dark blue ribbon braided through. “You didn’t know Luke,” she said. “Neither did I.”

Will put his hands into his trouser pockets. “It seems like he was quite well-loved.”

Piper looked out around the room. “Yes,” she said. “It does seem that way.”

There were the Stoll brothers, together in their matching dark suits; Luke’s colleagues, clumped together and all chattering away; some of his school friends gathered around Thalia; Luke’s mother, standing with Annabeth; Hermes alone in the corner, looking down at his phone. Will touched Piper’s elbow. “Shall we go and give our condolences to Luke’s dad?”

Piper looked a little surprised. “I don’t know him either.”

Will shrugged, and they wound their way through the groups of people. Up close, Will noticed that Hermes wore a snake ring on one finger, and had blue eyes like Luke and the Stolls. “Sir?” he said gently. “I’m Will Solace, this is Piper McClean. We’re with-”

“The Olympus Detective Agency,” Hermes finished, a little blurred. He had a pleasant voice, although devoid of any warmth, and with a strangely muffled quality. “I know who you are.”

Will and Piper exchanged a look. “We just wanted to say how sorry we are for your loss,” Piper said in a soothing voice. Will kept silent lest he ruin the effect.

“Thank you,” Hermes said stiffly. “I appreciate what you’re doing for my son, although I’d much prefer you didn’t do it.”

Caught off guard, Will said, “What?”

Hermes shook his head wildly. “Luke was involved in something very dangerous. It doesn’t need to be stirred up again.”

“But sir,” Piper said, an edge of confusion to her voice. “Don’t you _want_ to know who killed your son?”

Hermes produced a hip flask from the inside of his jacket and took a long, large swig. “Truthfully?” he replied. “Not particularly. It can only cause more hurt. And we’ve all been hurt enough by this.”

Will’s heart was beating strangely fast in his chest. Piper’s grip on his arm was a vice. “We’re going to find your son’s killer, sir,” she said with a voice like steel. “Whether you like it or not. There are other people who cared about him, and Luke deserves justice.”

Hermes laughed bitterly. “I’m not denying that. Luke deserved many things.” He looked at them, blue eyes bloodshot. Will noticed his hand shaking a little, from the emotion or the alcohol, he wasn’t sure. “You kids,” Hermes said to them. “You’re only going to end up getting hurt.”

“What makes you say that?” Piper asked.

Hermes was on a roll. “Luke never listened to me. I told him to come and do business with me, but it was never enough for him.”

“I don’t think enough was the problem,” Will began, but Hermes cut him off.

“We had such arguments. May hated it.”

“Sir,” Will said, reaching out. “I think you’ve had enough.”

Hermes yanked the hip flask away and took another drink. “You’re the doctor,” he said, pointing at Will. “Your dad’s pride and joy. He and I used to be such friends."

“He says hello,” Will said, reaching again for the flask. He didn’t think he’d ever been his father’s pride or joy.

Hermes’ eyes glistened. “Luke was my pride and joy, too. How quickly it all fades.”

Piper moved forward and managed to catch hold of Hermes’ hand. “Sir,” she said clearly. “You said you had arguments.”

“Always,” Hermes said. “If only we could have gotten along. It’s my biggest regret-”

“Arguments about what?” Piper asked. Will gave the flask a firm tug and it slid from Hermes’ grip into his own. The liquid spilled a little onto his jacket sleeve.

Hermes was looking at Piper. “How like your mother you look,” he said, and she drew back a little. “You’d understand more than anyone; the burden of a child with a parent like me. And Luke’s burden…his death…”

“ _Hermes_.”

The voice made Will flinch, and when he turned, Jason Grace’s father was standing there, tall and broad and furious. Zeus reached out and pulled Hermes away from Will and Piper without so much as a glance at them. “Er,” Will said, “he’s a little bit drunk, sir. It might not be the best idea to-”

But Zeus ignored them completely, and dragged Hermes away roughly. May Castellan was standing by the door, with Percy’s father. All four of them disappeared together. Jason was by Piper’s side in the next moment. “You alright?” Will heard him ask her, and she murmured an affirmative reply.

“He seemed a little distressed,” she told Jason, who shrugged.

“He has a right to be, today.”

“Seems like Luke didn’t see eye to eye with his father,” she glanced towards Will, who narrowed his eyes.

But Jason only sighed. “Seems like not many of us do.”

* * *

When Will emerged from the bathroom, he saw that his encounters with the titans of industry were not over for the day. Hades, Nico and Hazel’s father, was leaning against the wall next to one of the window seats. Tall and spindly and sharp-cut, he looked like a live version of one of Tim Burton’s cartoon characters. “Hello,” Will said tentatively, and Hades nodded.

“William Solace.”

Will almost stood to attention, but kept his arms by his sides with some effort. “Is Nico around?” he asked instead, somewhat desperately.

“I believe that Nico is now avoiding me again,” Hades said. “No matter. Our encounter proved fruitful. I only wanted to meet you before I left.”

“That’s…” Will trailed off. He had no idea what it was. For all he knew, Hades intended to murder him and throw his body out into the garden for the funeral directors to find. “..nice,” he finished lamely.

Hades chuckled humourlessly. “I’ve heard a lot about you, William Solace.”

“Have you?” Will asked with genuine surprise.

Hades inspected his cane. It was topped with a winged creature, in dull silver. “Nico doesn’t communicate with me, but Hazel doesn’t share the same aversion. She keeps me quite up to date on the happenings of the Agency.”

“That’s nice,” Will repeated.

“Yes, I suppose so,” Hades said carelessly. “Regardless, my son seems to have taken an interest in you. I felt I should do the same.”

Will swallowed his immediate denial of the statement, and let it settle onto his skin. “Did Hazel tell you that?”

“She did,” Hades replied. “But she need not have. After today, seeing the two of you together…” Hades paused, then continued, “One need not have extraordinary powers of observation to see that he holds you in very high regard.”

Will made a face. “ _Nico_ does?”

Hades laughed, this time with genuine mirth. “My son does hold his cards close to his chest, I see. A family trait, I’m afraid.”

 _He doesn’t let people in easily_. “Nico’s a good friend of mine,” Will said stoutly. “I hold him in high regard as well.” Hades was like a blank canvas. There was no way that Will was going to reveal any of his feelings in front of this man.

“See that you do. I would hate to hear that you take after your father in the way of…dalliances.”

Will’s eyes narrowed. “With all due respect, _sir_ ,” he said through gritted teeth. “You don’t even know me.”

“I know you’re in love with my son.”

It was like being struck in the chest, with so much force that Will had no breath left. He blinked, and felt his throat dry and his fingers go weak. It was like the first time he had performed an emergency intubation, or administered resuscitation, or that time he had fallen from the tree in his yard and been winded, adrenaline and all his extremities tingling. Hades was watching him with no small amount of amusement, and Will drew breath with difficulty. “No, don’t deny it,” Hades said before he could finish breathing in, and Will kind of hated him for it. “You might not know it, but I take a great interest in my son. Have a care.”

Then, Hades turned and walked away.

As soon as the hallway door closed behind him, Will collapsed into the window seat and put his head in his hands, the blood pounding in his ears. He wasn’t even sure what the reaction was to - that Nico’s father, an absolute stranger, had accused him of being in love; or that he had done it so brazenly, as if it were common knowledge.

But was it true, Will wondered. The flickering gazes that he gave Nico, the way he admired Nico’s movements and mind, the warmth he felt when Nico smiled, the tenderness, the strange desire to touch his hand, his knee, his shoulder, his cheek; the thrill in his chest when they were in the same room, the dryness in his mouth when they spoke. The bloom of something in his chest when Nico’s eyes met his.

It was something. Even Nico’s father knew it.

_I know you’re in love with my son._

_Fuck._

* * *

“So you spoke to my father.”

Will quashed the urge to turn his head, violently. “Yeah, we bumped into each other on the way out of the bathroom.”

Nico’s lips were white with tension. “My father doesn’t just bump into people.” He touched the back of Will’s hand gently. A sparkle of something bright and dangerous. “What did he say to you?”

Will clenched his other fist where Nico couldn’t see. “Nothing,” he responded.

* * *

_“Ever fancied someone you know you shouldn’t? Hurts, doesn’t it?_

_But kind of a good hurt.”_

_~Mark Gatiss, “Doctor Who; Victory of the Daleks”_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you enjoyed! Please review. :)


	7. Almae Matres

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A chapter of mothers. (God bless them; they absolutely rule.)
> 
> Also, Will encounters a bit of a roadblock.

_Wherever you may go, no matter where you are /_

_I never will be far away._

_~Billy Joel, “Lullaby (Goodnight, My Angel)”_

* * *

Frank liked to sit in the park. Ever since his childhood, he found it calming and peaceful; a time where he could be alone with his thoughts. Sunshine, silence, the scent of fresh grass and daffodils.

He would feed the ducks, seated underneath the beech trees that lined the pond, or lie on the grass and listen to the snippets of conversation going on around him. Sitting in the pavilion, the wi-fi was faster than in his office. His phone rang and Hazel’s picture popped up on the screen. “Hi,” he said with a smile.

“Hey, you,” she said cheerfully into his ear. “What are you up to?”

“Just research,” Frank said, scrolling down the document.

“Oh?” Hazel asked. She was home; he heard the _ping_ of her microwave. “Researching what?”

_Embargo_. Frank winced. “Just some things for the case.”

Hazel laughed. “We really should be paying you more.”

“That seems to be a consensus.”

“Are we still on for dinner tonight?” she asked him. The radio was playing in the background, and even though he’d seen her only a few days before, Frank felt a stab of loneliness. He could imagine her, standing in her favourite dress - dark blue, with a pattern of tiny white daisies - with her hair loose around her face, making lunch at the kitchen counter.

“Yeah,” he answered. “Definitely.”

There was a brief pause. “I miss you,” she said quietly. Hazel had been a little unsettled since the funeral, and Frank guessed it was because of Hades. “I know it’s only been two days, but-”

“I miss you too,” Frank said truthfully.

He could hear Hazel’s smile through the phone. “I’ll see you tonight.”

He held the phone to his ear for a few moments after she hung up, then with a sigh, placed it face down on the table and turned back to reading about the illegal weapons trade.

* * *

_Loose lips sink ships._

_~English idiom_

* * *

Will drove from the hospital after work to the Agency’s building, and let himself in. They would sift through the evidence, read up on Luke’s work, compare notes on interviews. Piper would debate with Will and Nico about the autopsy report, going round and round in circles until none of them even knew what their opinion was anymore.

Finally, long after the stars had appeared, as much as they could through London cloud, Percy called a time-out. “Alright, my brain’s literally turning to seaweed. Let’s clock off for the day - I need a drink, or five.”

Jason made an exhausted noise of agreement. “Definitely leaning more towards the five. Everyone coming with?”

“I’m meeting Frank for dinner,” Hazel said, checking her watch. “And I’m probably going to be late, too.”

“Have fun,” Leo said to her, waggling his eyebrows. “And don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.”

“Or anything he _would_ do,” Piper reminded Hazel with a gentle smile.

Hazel flushed. “We’re not going to do _anything_.”

Nico gave her a look. “You’d better not.”

“Big brother’s watching,” Annabeth laughed. “And I’m not just talking about Nico.”

“You all suck,” Hazel said with a grin. “I’ll tell Frank you say hi. You all have fun.”

“Not me tonight either,” Will said apologetically, stuffing his phone back into his pocket and zipping up his jacket.

Annabeth smiled at him as she pulled on her own jacket. “Got a hot date?”

Will grinned back. Beside him, only because they were crammed together on the sofa, he felt Nico stiffen. “If only,” Will joked. “My mother’s in town.”

“Oh, Naomi!” Percy perked up.

Jason helped Piper with her coat. “Are you taking her out somewhere nice?”

Will shook his head. “My mother’s a musician - she’s always eating out.” He shrugged. “I’m picking her up from the airport and we’ll probably just get take-out.”

“To the hotel room?” Percy asked with an arched eyebrow. “We really need to talk about your living arrangements. If you need more money for accommodation-”

“No, it isn’t that,” Will said, shaking his head again. “I actually quite like hotels.”

“Well, you can’t live there forever,” Percy said firmly. “Nico’s got a spare room; why don’t you just move in there?”

Will shifted away from Nico slightly. “Er-”

“We can talk about it later,” Annabeth said, shooting a warning look across at Percy. “Have a nice time with your mum, Will. Bring her round, if she wants to see where you work.”

“It’s sweet that she’s coming to see you,” Leo commented, rather grudgingly, still looking at his phone. “Not as sweet as a hot date, but sweet.” Piper threw a stress ball across the room at him. It bounced off his forehead.

“At least Nico can stop looking like he’s going to pass out,” Jason grinned.

Will glanced at Nico automatically. “What do you mean?” he asked.

Several sets of glaring eyes, and Will’s curious ones, landed on Jason, who visibly flinched. “Er, nothing,” he answered. “Nothing at all. I’m talking complete rubbish. Utter nonsense. Beers, anyone?”

He shot a panicked look at Piper, and then moved towards the door. Leo looked up from his phone screen, glanced around and lifted an eyebrow. “Who said what?” he asked.

“Nobody said anything,” Piper said firmly. “We’re leaving.”

She steered Leo towards the door and everyone else followed. Nico didn’t meet anyone else’s gaze as he strode past. Ahead, Annabeth pinched Jason’s arm. Hazel looked as if she was suppressing laughter with some difficulty, and last came Will, frowning.

* * *

_The truth is that no matter how old we are, as long as our mothers are alive, we want our mother._

_~Goldie Hawn_

* * *

Naomi Solace loved a good story, and Will had so many to tell of his time in London. But the questions Naomi had were about the people - how was Sherman? Was Percy still the handsome boy she remembered? Did Annabeth see much of her mother? Were Jason and Piper a good match? Could Leo help with her bluetooth? She liked the sound of Hazel and Frank - were they close with Will?

When Will told his mother about Nico, she only gave him a little smile. “We could go to the headquarters tomorrow, if you like,” he offered. “The others wouldn’t mind, if you’d like to see the building.”

“Oh, I would,” Naomi said. “And I’d like to meet them, too.”

“I think they’d like that,” Will said honestly.

They left the curtains open, and Naomi sat looking out over the city lights while Will, who was not a victim of jet lag, got ready for bed. That night, he drifted off to sleep to the sound of his mother strumming on her guitar and humming softly. A drowsy bliss flooded his limbs; a safety that he felt only when Naomi was close. It was like every night of his blessed childhood, and he sank into a soft sleep.

* * *

_I had some dreams,_

_They were clouds in my coffee._

_~Carly Simon, “You’re So Vain”_

* * *

Knowing full well that they had gone to the pub the night before, Will waited until late morning to take his mother to the Agency. It was Leo who flung the door open. “Why are you ringing the doorbell?” he demanded with no exposition. “You have a key - _oh_.”

Will grinned as Leo stopped in his tirade, noticing Naomi. “Leo, this is my mother, Naomi Solace. Mum - Leo.”

“Ms. Solace,” Leo said, his tone very different, reaching for her hand. She gave it; he pressed his lips to it; Will rolled his eyes. “Pleasure to make your acquaintance.”

“ _Enchantée_ ,” Naomi replied, eyes sparkling with amusement. “How charming.”

“Please come in,” Leo said, stepping aside. “I’ll rally up the others. Will, Nico’s in the basement and he had a bit of a mishap last night - can you go take a look?”

Will hung his bag up on his hook, and frowned. “What happened?”

“Nothing, he was drunk,” Leo said in an undertone, glancing towards Naomi, who was inspecting the paintings.

Will grinned again as he descended the stairs. “Leo, my mum’s in a band. She gave me my first drink when I was twelve. Trust me; she’s heard of worse than intoxicated youth.” But Leo, who was objectively the crudest person Will knew, only shot him a scandalised look, and followed Naomi into the main office.

It was his first time alone with Nico since the funeral. _I know you’re in love with my son_. The office door was ajar, and Will swallowed whatever it was he was feeling and knocked lightly before entering.

Walking into Nico’s work-space was like wandering into a Tim Burton movie without the skeletons and the cartoon characters. The walls were painted a thick grey (“Nico asked for black but Percy veto-ed it,” Jason had once informed Will. “Because it’s already underground and he didn’t want it to feel like a dungeon.”). There were two windows that gave a view of the garden from a low angle, and multiple strangely-shaped light bulbs hung from the ceiling. The doors were wood and the floors linoleum, which gave the room a mixed atmosphere of laboratory and tea-room. Nico had a desk and a sofa (black, naturally, perched on a white rug) and on the walls were hung exquisite anatomical line drawings, one surprisingly bright watercolour painting of what looked like Venice, and -

“Are those butterflies?” Will said suddenly, noticing the new frame with trepidation. There were several winged insects pinned to the board, with words written underneath in Latin. He wondered if Nico had pinned and penned them himself.

“ _Farfalle_ ,” Nico said in reply. “Yes.”

“Dude,” Will said, wrinkling his nose. “That’s gross.”

Nico folded his arms. “They interest me.”

“So go to a butterfly sanctuary,” Will said with distaste. “No need to pin them to a board.”

Nico leaned against his desk and glared. “Did you need something? Or are you just here to insult my taste?”

Will resisted a smile. “Leo said you had a fall.”

This brought about a scowl. “Leo’s a snitch.”

Will narrowed his eyes and looked at his friend. “Well. Your sense of sarcasm seems to be intact at least. What happened?”

“Tripped in the street,” Nico muttered. Then, as he turned, Will saw a small bruise blooming on his cheekbone, like a flower.

“Onto your face?”

Nico averted his eyes. “Into a lamppost.”

Will couldn’t help the little snort of laughter that escaped him, but when he looked up, Nico was smiling a little too. _I know you’re in love with my son_. “Well,” Will said, his voice a little hoarser than usual. “I’m sure a lamppost is no match for you, but let me have a look anyway.”

It was only a bruise. Will stepped close to inspect it, his fingers glided over Nico’s pale skin, lingering for a longer than strictly necessary. “The lamppost won,” Nico said quietly, and Will felt the breath flutter against his cheek.

“It was only a tiny victory,” Will murmured. “But a sure one.”

Between them, only a few inches. Will’s eyes drifted lower to Nico’s nose, then his lips. Nico’s eyes followed his movement, and they stood like that, in quiet limbo, breathing in and out. Nico smelt of salt, and something dark and flowery. Will’s fingertips were still on his face. “Will,” Nico said in a low voice, then stopped.

_I know you’re in love with my son_.

His heart was beating in his throat, so rapidly that he was sure Nico would be able to see it, fluttering there like a bird. Hades’ words seemed to have unlocked something in him. “Neeks,” he said quietly. “I-“

“Oi, you two!”

The exclamation came clearly from the floor above, and Nico shoved Will away from him so violently that they ended up almost on opposite sides of the room. Will stumbled, his hand still raised in the air, but Nico had already turned away. It was Jason’s voice, echoing down into the basement. “We’re ordering lunch. Naomi says pizza is good - what do you guys want?”

Nico cleared his throat several times before going over to the door and answering. Will waited for the sound of his footsteps to die away as he went up the stairs, and blinked furiously against the sudden sting of tears. He could feel on the points on his shoulders, like brands, where Nico had pushed him away.

_Message received._

* * *

Piper and Percy got along famously with Naomi, and made her laugh with their detective exploits over pizza and beer. They told jokes, and asked for stories of Will as a child, much to his chagrin. They teased him cheerfully and gossiped with Naomi about the parents of their school friends, and Naomi was delighted to participate in the good-natured humour.

But the others, to Will’s surprise, were extraordinarily well-behaved. There was not one single rude joke, not one expletive, not one inappropriate comment. “Why are they all being so…polite?” Will muttered to Piper as they filled up the water jugs at the sink.

Piper glanced over her shoulder. Annabeth was sliding the pizza box over to Naomi with a shy hand; Jason had not let slip a single curse word. “She’s nice, and normal, and she loves you more than anything,” Piper said to him. “They’re not really used to parents like that.”

Leo was listening to Naomi as she told them about Will’s teenage years. Nico watched her as if she were too good to be true. It was a little endearing, Will thought privately. And a lot sad.

“Black wasn’t really his colour,” Naomi told them as Will sat back down. Percy roared with laughter, and Jason and Leo were both grinning from ear to ear.

“Mum,” Will groaned. “Not this story.”

“You had a punk rock phase?” Piper joined back in, delighted.

“Hey, I grew out of it. Not like Nico.” Will poked his tongue out at Nico, then suddenly remembered the episode in the basement, and flushed.

Naomi laughed. “I had to hear the Black Sabbath day and night.”

Even Hazel giggled at that. “Oh, I hate you,” Will grumbled.

Naomi winked at the group and ruffled Will’s hair. “Alright, you,” she said to him fondly. “I think I’ve taken up enough of your time - aren’t you supposed to be working?”

“Yeah,” Will said with a grin, although at least three or four voices said that Naomi was welcome to stay.

Will walked his mother to the door. “I like your friends,” she told him.

“Yeah,” he repeated. “Me too.”

When he returned, they were tidying up the pizza boxes. “Your mum is awesome,” Piper said with an easy grin. Will reached, smiling, across to stack the cups and his hand brushed against another. Nico stared at him for a breath, then two, then three, then turned his eyes away.

* * *

_A child’s first teacher is its mother._

_~Peng Liyuan_

* * *

“Well, Annabeth. This is a pleasant surprise.”

Athena was one of the most frightening women on the planet. That was Percy’s theory, and although she would never tell him, Annabeth was inclined to agree. “Well, it’s been a few months.”

“And yet,” Athena said with a knowing glance, “I doubt it is the time and separation that has prompted this meeting.” She poured tea, as if it did not perturb her in the slightest that her daughter did not miss her. It likely didn’t.

“Well, yes,” Annabeth said, then admitted, “and no. A bit of both.”

“Oh?”

“It’s about Luke.”

“Yes. That poor boy.”

Annabeth sighed. “We’re trying to solve his murder.”

Athena’s grey eyes softened a little. “And you are concerned that you can no longer maintain professional level-headedness.”

Annabeth did not ask how her mother knew. “Concerned is a light word for it. Percy’s been saying it from day one.”

“Well,” Athena said, sipping her tea. “I do hate to say this, but I have to agree with the young man.” She inclined her head lightly. “Not that he should be made aware.”

“As if,” Annabeth grinned. She ate a biscuit. Athena poured more tea, and the delicious aroma wafted upwards. The solarium was Annabeth’s favourite room in her mother’s house, and it was always immaculately kept. She always wondered if Athena tended the garden herself, or hired a gardener, but she had never asked. Instead, she said, “I’ve always been able to do my job. All my friends have their defining characteristic, and mine is being clever.” She cleared her throat. With Athena, it was always best to be direct. “My emotions are compromising that. It worries me. What if I screw up the investigation because of it - it’s _Luke_.”

“Annabeth,” Athena said firmly, placing her cup back into its saucer. “I have never been a large part of your life, but I know one thing.” Her eyes were grey as sea stones. “Your defining characteristic is not intelligence, but wisdom.”

“But-“

“Of course, you have always been stubborn, which is often a natural enemy of wisdom,” Athena mused.

“But-“

“But you are not as wise as your mother, so be quiet, and I will tell you how to solve your problem.”

Annabeth closed her mouth obediently and took another biscuit. Athena smiled. “Very good. Now, I say that your real problem is not how to solve Luke’s death, but what comes after.” Annabeth frowned as she tried to make sense of this. “You say that you believe Luke was tracking criminal activity all over the globe?”

“Yes.”

“Have you considered what he might have been tracking?”

Annabeth shrugged. “I suppose drugs are most likely, since it was something Luke had some interest in. But there are other illegal goods.”

For a moment, Annabeth thought she saw a spark of curiosity in her mother’s eye, but then it was gone, and Athena was all practicality. “Well, no matter the object itself, people who are involved in those kinds of activities tend to be dangerous, do they not?”

“I suppose so, yes,” Annabeth said.

“So,” Athena said, as if waiting for Annabeth to grasp her meaning. “What do you plan to do if and when you find these people?”

Annabeth stared at her mother. It was something that she had not even considered, and yet it was something that would require extensive thought. “Good point.”

Athena’s phone, on the table between them, buzzed several times, and her eyes swept downwards, then back to Annabeth. “Wisdom takes many forms, my daughter. Always think about every problem. From every point of view.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

Athena finished her tea and nodded. “Now. I have a meeting; Artemis and Demeter are waiting for me in the car. Do you need anything else?”

Annabeth smiled. “No, ma’am.”

Athena stood up, adjusted her hair and picked up her bag. “Well, if you do need anything, you have my number.”

And she swept out of the solarium, leaving behind the scent of chamomile and a lightness in Annabeth’s chest.

* * *

_All women become like their mothers. That is their tragedy._

_No man does. That is his._

_~Oscar Wilde_

* * *

Naomi had stayed a week, then flew to Spain. Will drove her to the airport in Jason’s car, and walked with her to customs. “I’m going to miss you,” he told her.

She smiled, a little tearfully. “I’m going to miss you, darlin’,” she replied. “But I’m just a phone call away. You know that.”

“Yeah,” Will said, and wrapped her in a hug.

Naomi wiped her eyes. “Just yesterday, you were a tiny little thing, trailing along behind me. And now you’re a big-shot detective-”

“Not a detective, mum.”

“- solving crazy cases, and making new friends, and walking your own path.” She shook her head. “I’ll always be proud of you. You know that too. Just promise to be careful.”

Will smiled at her, sunny and bright. “I promise.”

“Alright,” Naomi said. “Have fun.” Will handed her suitcase over to her, and gave her a last hug. “Oh, Will,” she said. “Before I forget.” She grinned at him. “I know you hardly need your mother’s approval, but - I like Nico very much.”

Will blinked. “What?”

“Nico,” Naomi repeated. “He’s a very nice young man.”

Will’s mouth fell open. “Mum, what are you talking about?”

Naomi pursed her lips at him. “Now, don’t treat your mother like she’s an idiot.” She tapped his cheek with an indexed finger, callused from years of guitar, but still soft and cool to the touch. “Give me a little credit.” He stared at her like she had grown another head; she rolled her bright eyes at him. “You’re in love with him, aren’t you?”

_I know you’re in love with my son_.

“Mum,” he protested weakly, but her knowing look stopped him mid-sentence. “You only met him for like thirty minutes.”

“I knew it even before then,” she said. “I’m your mother. You spoke about him, and you lit up like a house on fire.” Will felt the blood rush to his face.

“Jeez, mum,” he muttered again. “It’s nothing.”

“I didn’t raise you to be a coward, William,” Naomi said firmly.

Will gave a short, humourless laugh. “It’s not like that,” he said. “I don’t think…” He trailed off. When he closed his eyes, he could see against his eyelids, Nico - the way he had looked at Will with dark, inscrutable eyes; how he had pushed Will away with such desperation and ferocity; how ever since, he had avoided Will’s gaze, like water sliding over rocks. “I don’t think Nico sees the situation the same way I do.”

Naomi’s face was full of sympathy, and she laid one hand against his cheek. “Well,” she said quietly. “The world has its ways of sorting everything out.”

“Life is a river,” Will said promptly, and Naomi laughed.

“I’m more proud of you than you will ever know, bug.”

Will squeezed his eyes shut and memorised his mother’s embrace all over again. “I love you too, mum.”

* * *

_“I expect nothing, which is why I’m such an exceptional detective.”_

_~Sherlock Holmes, “Elementary”_

* * *

Percy stared at his phone. The number was an unfamiliar one, but Percy knew who it was. Only his father would ever text him with such impeccable grammar. The text itself was clear enough, but its meaning was bewildering. Poseidon was to be in the country next month, and would be much obliged if Percy would take time off work to help him with some business. Also, his mother would never say so, but she missed him at home and would be obliged if he would stop by more often to help with the pregnancy. And Poseidon himself would also be much obliged if Percy could organised some things for his house before he came.

“Something wrong with the phone, chief?”

Leo was watching him from across the office. Percy didn’t think he’d ever seen the word _obliged_ so much in a single text. “My dad messaged,” he told Leo, who hummed.

“My dad does that too. Not sure he knows how to text. Or spell.”

“Oh,” Percy said, “my dad knows how to spell alright. This text is several paragraphs long.”

Leo grimaced. “That’s how Frank texts. I keep telling him not to be such an old goat. Or bat. Or beaver. The animal changes depending on my mood.”

“Dad wants me to do all this stuff for him before he comes to London next month. Which is strange, because I’ve never even been to his house in London.”

Leo’s face took on a thoughtful expression. “You know, Jason just got a text from his dad yesterday, too. Zeus wants him to go out of town for a few weeks, to sort out some property stuff.”

Percy’s suspicion grew. His father was prone to acting oddly, as was Jason’s. It was a common trait in a mostly absent, stupendously wealthy parent. But the two brothers acting strangely at the same time was a surprisingly alarming coincidence. Leo looked as though he was about to voice the same thought.

Nico was making tea over by the sink, rifling through the cabinets for a clean mug with his earphones in. Percy shouted several times before he heard, and removed them irritably. “What?” he demanded. He’d been a more irritable than usual for a few days.

“Has your dad spoken to you recently?”

Nico shrugged. “Not really. He texted me this morning, but it was pretty random. I figured he was just having one of his weird sentimental periods. Like the time he gave me that French chauffeur.”

Leo grinned at that, but Percy said, “What did he text you?”

Nico shrugged again, like a signature move. “Just that he wants me and Hazel to be careful.”

“About what?”

“How should I know?” Nico asked, and the kettle finished boiling with a _ping_. “Are you asking me to fathom the inside of my father’s mind, Percy? Because that’s a mystery that even you lot couldn’t unravel.” Then, when he noticed Percy’s grim face, he said, “What is it?”

“A new problem,” Percy replied, internally sighing. “Something weird’s going on with the family.”

“What family?” Nico asked, glancing towards Leo, then towards the door; and Percy knew that Nico thought he meant the Agency.

But it was not the Agency with which Percy was concerned, and he shook his head. “Dad, and Uncle Zeus, and Uncle Hades. There’s something weird going on with them.”

“What?”

“I don’t know,” Percy said, wrinkling his nose in distaste. “And I really hate not knowing.”

Nico flashed him a surprisingly genuine grin. “Really? I’d never have known. Certainly not why you became a detective.”

Which made Percy grin.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you enjoyed! Please review. :)


	8. Cry Power

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Leo, Frank and Hazel appreciation day.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is dedicated to women who hope and love, like Hazel. This chapter is also dedicated to women who, like Hazel, learn to prepare for the worst, and have to be tough on top of it all, and who can battle their way out of any shit the world throws at them.
> 
> And to the men like Frank. Who make sure that they don't have to.

_Friendship is one mind in two bodies._

_~Mencius_

* * *

Leo Valdez was unlike anyone else Will had met in his life. No gadget, electronic or line of code was a mystery to Leo; nobody’s email or computer or phone line was safe. He was also, underneath the sarcasm, humour and one-liners, a shockingly compassionate individual. While his head was often lowered over a phone screen or hidden behind a laptop screen, he saw a lot. In his own way, Will thought that Leo would have made a good detective as well.

But Leo was singularly dedicated to his role in the group, and he loved technology with a ferocity that rivalled Will’s own for medicine.

And Leo loved a challenge.

“So who is this?” he asked Will, scanning the sheets.

“My school friend, Sherman,” Will answered. Jason and Piper, who had been eating lunch with Leo, listened from the sofa. “He’s doing some work for his dad in London.”

“And he noticed the payment discrepancies?” Jason asked through a mouthful of pasta.

“Yeah,” Will said, thinking back to his lunch with Sherman. “He said he was going over the books, which he doesn’t usually do. And Ares’ accounts don’t match up with the outgoing payments.”

“There are some undisclosed payments here,” Leo said, leafing through the sheets.

“Yeah,” Will said. “Sherman said that he’ll give us any information we need, but he wants the whole thing to be completely confidential.”

“Well, you told him that’s our policy, right?” Piper said.

Will suppressed a smile. Even after almost a year, the word  _our_ still warmed him to his fingertips. “Yes, I did.” Leo was already bringing up the documents on his laptop, typing rapidly. “Look, I know you guys are super focussed on Luke’s case, but I just thought I’d-”

“Oh, don’t worry about that,” Leo said, waving his hand at Will, almost knocking into Jason’s nose. “I like to have a palate cleanser every now and then.” _Palate cleanser?_ Will mouthed at Jason and Piper, who both grinned fondly at their friend. “Tell your friend Sherman that we’ll get right on it,” Leo continued. “I’ll let you know when I have something figured out.”

Will had no idea how to express his gratitude, not for Leo’s assistance, but for his immediate willingness to help. It was like a cool wind that soothed his skin, after the harsh summer storm that had been Nico’s rejection, and subsequent avoiding. Not that they would know about that. “Really,” he said. “I owe you one.”

Leo hit the wrong key, swore, then said without looking up, “It’s family. We don’t owe.”

Jason was leaning forward, glasses sliding to the tip of his nose, elbows on his knees, studying the sheets. Piper was looking at Will. “We sort stuff out together, yeah?” she said to him, as if she knew what was going on in his mind.

Jason read clues, Leo read computer code, Piper read people.

“Yeah,” Will said warmly. “Thanks.”

* * *

Will thought that he must have stumbled onto some pot of good fortune, because on Nico’s afternoon coffee run, he asked Will to come along. At first, conversation was stiff, and Nico stared straight ahead with hands in his pockets. Will made sure to be a certain distance away from his friend, and he kept the conversation light and easy.

Reyna greeted them both with a cheerful smile, and the sad, sympathetic look she gave Will made him think that she knew more than anyone else about their situation. They sat, once again, at the window, and Will tried hard not to think about the last time they had been here.

_You just have this…this light inside you._

“I have something to say to you,” Nico told him, cutting him off as he rambled on about his day at the hospital.

He was quiet for a long time. Then, as Nico watched him, he said, “Ok.”

There was a thousand thousand things that Will wanted to hear, but Nico, true to form, said none of them. Instead - “Do you want to move in with me?”

“Wait.” Will cupped his hands around his coffee and stared. “I’m sorry, what?”

Nico shrugged, a flush unfurling delicately on his cheek bones. His shoulders were stiff but he went on. “It’s just that I know you’re still staying in a hotel and - come on. It’s been a year.”

Will was flabbergasted, utterly dumbfounded. “I like hotels.”

 _I like hotels_? he thought to himself. It was a wonder that he had gotten through medical school at all.

“Alright,” Nico said defensively. “I was just offering; no need to-”

“No,” Will said quickly. “I didn’t meant - you took me by surprise. That’s all.” Nico’s face relaxed slightly, but he didn’t say anything further, and Will took that to mean that it was still his turn. “That’s really…nice of you, Nico, but do you really think it’s a good idea? It might be..complicated.”

“Why?” Nico asked. “You need a room, I have one. You wouldn’t even need to pay rent, because that apartment belongs to me. And I won’t have to do dishes every night. What complications could there be?”

Will blinked as he tried to process this information. “Well…” His brain, so quick on the wards, had turned to sludge. “Bills. Car spaces. Arguments. Different bathroom schedules.” _I’m in love with you. Oh, and our parents know about it_.

Nico made a face. “Bathroom schedules?” he repeated with distaste. “There won’t be any complications as long as you don’t mention a bathroom schedule again.” Will was still unsure; it obviously showed on his face. “Look,” Nico said. “If you don’t want to live with me, I won’t be offended. I play punk rock music during the day sometimes; I have weird sleeping habits, and the dryer breaks and I can’t be bothered to fix it for days at a time. I get it. But just think about it, if you want.”

“I’ll think about it,” Will promised. “And…thank you.”

Nico shrugged. “What are friends for.”

 _Friends_. And just like that, Will’s luck ran out.

* * *

_One is not born, but rather becomes, a woman._

_~Simone de Beauvoir, “The Second Sex”_

* * *

Frank was avoiding Hazel. She was almost sure of it. He had missed her calls in the last day, replied evasively to texts and told her he was working late on three separate occasions. Frank was a lawyer; he worked late sometimes. It wasn’t suspicious.

So Hazel had thought, before driving past his house and seeing all the lights ablaze. Frank might have lied, but he wasn’t very good at covering his tracks. She supposed that was why he was a lawyer, rather than a criminal.

“Hey,” Piper said, tapping her on the wrist. “We’re all going out for drinks tonight. Nothing major, just a beer or two.”

“Alright,” Hazel said easily.

“Is Frank going to come by? Haven’t seen him for a while.”

“Where is Zhang anyway?” Leo demanded from across the room. “I miss having him around. Don’t ever tell him I said so.”

Hazel shrugged. “He’ll probably be working late.”

“Really?” Piper asked, and Hazel knew that it was pointless to lie.

“No,” she responded wearily. “Last night, he told me he was, but I drove past and he was home by dinner time.”

“What?” Nico asked sharply and Hazel sighed. She had forgotten that everybody else was in the room. “Frank _lied_ to you?”

“Maybe he’s planning a surprise for you,” Percy suggested.

“Yeah!” Jason agreed brightly. “Like a huge elaborate cake that’s going to take a day to bake or something.”

“Yes, because the news on the street is that Frank is now a cartoon bear!” Leo said sarcastically, then turned to Hazel. “Look, I like Zhang. But say the word and I’ll go bash him.”

“You will bash nobody,” Piper said.

“I won’t?”

“You won’t,” Piper told him firmly. Then, to Annabeth, who was next to her, “Right?”

Annabeth shrugged. “I don’t know, Pipes. I was going to drive him.”

“Come on,” Percy said. “It’s Frank. _Frank_. I’ve never met anyone less capable of deception.” Hazel sighed again. Percy stared at her. “Hazel - what do you think he’s doing?”

“I don’t know,” Hazel said miserably. “But it can’t be the cake, because he told me he was working late three separate times.”

This silenced them all in a surprisingly efficient way. Hazel wryly filed the information for future use. It was Will, who hung around as much as Frank had before the previous week but never spoke much, who said, “My mother used to tell me she was rehearsing late with the band when I was a teenager, and I found out that she’d just go walk in the park.” Hazel looked towards him. She liked Will a great deal, as did Frank. He was kind and clever and generous, and he made Nico laugh, which was something she hadn’t seen in a long time.

“Why?” she asked him.

Will shrugged. “It helped her think. She liked to be alone with her thoughts, but she didn’t want me to think I was a burden to her.” His blue eyes were earnest, but he suddenly seemed to realise that everyone was listening to him, and said quickly, “I’m not saying that Frank should be lying to you. But maybe he’s just got something on his mind.”

“That’s true,” Percy said immediately. “We shouldn’t jump to conclusions.”

“Well, aren’t you the consummate detective,” Annabeth said with a grin and Percy ruffled her hair in retaliation. The two of them had seemed easier together, after Annabeth had seen her mother. Hazel wondered what Athena had said while a tendril of envy unfurled in her chest. What she wouldn’t give for a mother’s advice.

“You’re right,” she said to Will. “It may well be nothing. I’ll talk to Frank soon, and find out exactly what’s going on.”

This seemed to satisfy them, but as they were clearing up the day’s work, Piper pulled Hazel close by the elbow. “Listen to me,” Piper said quietly. Only Annabeth was in hearing distance, and she bent down over her files. “I know the boys think that Frank is pure as the driven snow,” she said. “And you know that I love him like a brother. But you just be careful. If there’s one thing I’ve learnt from my mother, it’s that you can never really, _really_ know what’s in a man’s heart.”

Hazel stared at her. “But Jason-”

“-is one of the best people I know,” Piper finished. “But still.”

“I trust Frank,” Hazel said stoutly. She hated the seed of doubt in her mind, but it was there, and Piper gave her a sad, knowing smile.

“It’s wonderful that you do,” she said. “But trust can be broken. Like I said. Be careful.”

Annabeth was looking over with dark grey eyes. “You agree with this?” Hazel asked her.

Annabeth sighed. In the background, the boys were washing up. Leo turned the sink on with such force that water splashed across the entire draining board and down his shirt, while Jason howled with laughter. “My mother might not have Aphrodite’s expertise in this particular area, but she does advocate wisdom. You have to plan for every eventuality. People are unpredictable.”

“Do you?” Hazel asked, glancing towards Percy. A blind man could see that he would follow Annabeth to the very end of the earth. They were good people, their boys. “Plan for every eventuality?”

Annabeth glanced over towards Percy, then back. “Yes.”

“Who wants to live that way?” Hazel said softly.

“I don’t like it,” Annabeth returned at the same volume. “But I do it. Better to be safe.”

Piper put her hand on Hazel’s arm. “I’m sure that Frank has good intentions, whatever’s going on. But women have to rise above.” She gave Hazel’s arm a comforting squeeze. Hazel had always looked up to her, and to Annabeth too. Now, they were giving her identical looks, melancholy and fierce. What women these friends of hers were. “We have to rise above anything. And that means being prepared for the worst.”

* * *

_To live in hearts we leave behind_

_Is not to die._

_~Thomas Campbell_

* * *

Nico’s house was the tidiest place that Will had ever been. All the dishes were stacked according to function, and then, bizarrely, colour. Books in alphabetical order, glasses immaculately displayed, sparse decorations. One of Hazel’s paintings, again of Venice. “No insects?” Will asked Nico jokingly.

Nico shrugged. “I put them all in your room. I know how much you love them.”

Will grinned at that. Despite his words, the spare room was clean, with a set of linens and towels folded on the end of the bed. A photo hung on the wall, of a young woman and two children. The boy had Nico’s eyes. “Is this you?”

Nico closed the wardrobe and saw what Will was looking at. “I meant to take that down.”

“Is that your mum?” Will asked, craning his neck to see as Nico took the picture down, leaving an empty hook. “Who’s the girl?”

“My sister,” Nico said shortly.

“Hazel?” Will asked. “She looks pretty different.”

“Not Hazel,” Nico said. “My other sister.”

Will’s eyebrows rose; he had known Nico a year and never heard of another sister. “What’s her name?”

Nico turned away, his eyes turned downwards. “There’s more towels in the cupboard if you need them. I’ll be out tonight. Your key’s on the dresser.”

Will blinked as the front door closed. He waited to hear the sound of it opening again, but Nico didn’t come back at all that night.

* * *

_Above all, be the heroine of your own life, not the victim._

_~Nora Ephron_

* * *

“Frank, I’m coming over.”

“What?” Frank sounded alarmed. “Hazel, er, I’m going out for drinks soon with people from the office, so I can’t do dinner tonight - maybe the weekend, or-”

“I’m outside your house.”

There was dead silence over the phone, then a scurrying, and the door opened and Hazel was face to face with her boyfriend. “Hi,” Frank said awkwardly, phone still in his hand. Hazel ended the call. Even confused, and angry with him as she was, seeing Frank still made her feel warm through, like a fireplace on a cold night. He was wearing his office clothes, sleeves of his crisp shirt rolled up his to elbows, untucked at the waist. She glared at him, although she found it difficult.

“Hi?” she said. “That’s what you have to say to me? After avoiding my calls, ignoring my messages and lying to me about where you’ve been for the past week and a half?”

Frank looked startled. “How do you-”

“Know about that?” Hazel asked. “It might surprise you to know that I’m not a complete idiot.”

“Of course I know that. I just-”

“You just what?” she demanded, and to her horror, her eyes began to fill with tears. “You just thought that I wouldn’t find out that you told me you would be at work when you weren’t? You just thought that I’d be alright with you lying to me?”

“No,” Frank said miserably. “I didn’t think that.”

Hazel had never met a man who didn’t crumble under a woman crying, which was precisely why she hated doing it. She wiped her eyes and Frank moved towards her, but she slapped at his hand and he stopped. “What are you doing, Frank?” _Women have to rise above_. “If you didn’t want to see me, you could have just _said_ so.”

“It isn’t that-”

“Then what _is_ it?” Hazel demanded. Nico had told her how much Hades had loved his mother. He had stayed with Maria di Angelo until Nico was born, had offered to provide for her, had cared for Nico and Bianca when she had died, in his own roundabout way. Hazel’s own mother had received no such courtesy. But Hazel could not even hate her father for it - she had met Persephone, his wife. There was infidelity in her family, like a long sickness. She had promised herself long ago that it would not be her downfall, but she could not say the same of Frank. As much as she hated to admit it, Piper was right. She was a woman, and she would have the truth, no matter how hard. “Be honest, Frank. What is it? Why are you lying to me?” She paused. “Are you seeing somebody else?”

“ _What_?” Frank asked, his face going white. “Hazel, you can’t be serious-”

But Hazel had watched her mother run after her father’s wealth and power for too many years, and it had led to tragedy, both personal and familial. “Can’t I? Is it such a strange conclusion to draw?”

Frank looked like he was about to be sick. He pressed one hand into his stomach. “Hazel, you can’t think that I would ever-”

“I won’t know what to think until you tell me.”

Frank looked at her for a moment, his dark eyes wide. He had told her once that she reminded him of his own mother - strong, like a soldier, and full of a sense of duty. “Come in, Hazel,” he said to her quietly, and she stepped past him into the warmth of his house.

* * *

It was equal parts pleasant and terrible, living with Nico. Will grew accustomed to being around him all the time, or so he thought; then Nico would make a comment or a gesture or a facial expression and the emotion would slam into Will so hard that he felt it clog his airways.

He went out for a beer with Sherman and explained his new living arrangement. “That’s nice,” Sherman said. “At least you’re not living off takeaway and hotel amenities anymore.”

“Yeah,” Will said. “It’s nice.”

Leo had gotten some way with Sherman’s father’s accounts. “They were offshore, alright,” he said. “I haven’t seen regular, redacted payments like these since I hacked into Jason’s dad’s bank account in middle school - is it just a rich people thing?”

“What?” Will laughed. “Corruption?”

“But who would he be paying?” Annabeth asked. “If they’re regular, it’s a service, or a person.”

“What if he has a family on the bad side of town?” Percy said suddenly.

Hazel frowned. “What do you mean, the ‘bad side of town’?”

Percy hesitated, then looked at Nico. “Er…”

Piper rolled her eyes. “He means a mistress. Maybe an illegitimate kid that he pays to upkeep.”

Hazel looked as if she were about to faint. “Surely not.”

“What a delicate conscience,” Leo teased her without venom. “And Percy’s suggestion’s a lot more delicate than mine, anyway.” He shrugged. “Rich? Single? Travels a lot? Regular payments?”

Jason winced. “You’re not suggesting…” He glanced quickly at Hazel. “Call women?”

“ _Call women_?” Annabeth repeated, her laughter breaking the serious atmosphere. “Jason, you must be kidding. That’s not even a real term.”

“What does calling women have to do with it?” Hazel asked, frowning.

Nico rolled his eyes. “They mean prostitution, Hazel.”

“Oh, my good Lord.”

“And amen,” Leo said calmly. “I’m serious. It’s a perfectly valid theory - Hazel, do _not_ look at at me like that.”

Percy sighed. “I have to agree with you. But we can’t send Will back to Sherman with this. Not a nice thing to tell a friend, is it?"

But Sherman received the news extremely well. “Honestly, that’s what I thought too,” he said serenely, sipping his beer. “But I was hoping you might be able to find out exactly where the money’s going.”

“We’re working on that,” Will assured him, then amended, “Well, I’m not. But someone is.”

Sherman grinned. “You know, you’re really in with Percy and Annabeth and the rest of them, aren’t you?” Will jerked his shoulders in an affirmative sort of way, and Sherman gave him an appraising look. “Well, it’s good. You seem good.”

Will smiled, then sighed, as he thought of his friends, and the Agency, and Nico. “I’m doing alright.”

* * *

_And I could cry, “Power.”_

_~Hozier, “Nina Cried Power”_

* * *

Frank’s entire living room was covered in papers, and for a moment, Hazel wondered if he really had been working late. “What is all this?” Next to a spread of papers was an open file and she caught a glimpse of a photograph. Blond hair, bright eyes, a familiar face. “Frank, are you - are you working on Luke’s case?”

Frank shrugged warily. “Sort of. I guess.”

Hazel forgot to sound angry. “That’s what you’ve been doing? But why didn’t you just come over? Everyone loves having you there, and you’re always a huge help.” Frank mumbled something under his breath, and Hazel frowned. “What was that?”

“It was just a theory.”

“I’m a detective, Frank. I deal in theories.”

Frank sighed. “When I was looking through Luke’s memos with you, I noticed that he’d highlighted a bunch of research on embargo.” At her silence, he added, “A trade ban.” Hazel glared at him out of the corner of her eye, and he hastened on. “Anyway, he’d highlighted some sections about arms embargo, so I wanted to do some digging, and it turns out that he was really on to something, so I asked a friend of mine who wrote his thesis on arms embargo and followed Luke’s trail and-”

“And you kept all this a secret from us, why?” Hazel asked, looking around at the sheets.

“It’s just…” Frank bit his lip. “Hazel, it’s dangerous.”

Hazel blinked. “What’s dangerous?”

“All of it.” Frank looked as if he wanted to sink into the ground and disappear. “Knowing all of this got Luke killed, didn’t it?”

Comprehension flooded through Hazel like a gust of wind, and swept away all of the anger. Instead, she felt only a mixture of fondness and exasperation. “And you don’t want me to get killed.”

“Is that a real question?” Frank retorted.

“But apparently, you think I don’t mind if you get yourself killed,” she remarked lightly.

“That’s not what I-”

“You’re an idiot,” Hazel said bluntly. “An absolute idiot.” She grinned at his concerned expression and added, “But you mean well.”

“Really?” His face was so hopeful that it made her want to laugh. “Am I forgiven?”

Smiling, she said, “Yes. For lying to me, and for thinking that you get to decide what danger I get myself into.” She folded her arms. “You don’t. You aren’t my keeper, Frank. If you want to protect me, I appreciate it. But if I think I can’t handle something, I will say so myself. Do you understand?”

“Yes, ma’am,” he answered meekly. “Sorry.” He held a hand out to her tentatively; she took it and he drew her to him and buried his face in her curls. “I love you, Hazel.”

_Women have to rise above. We have to rise above everything._

_But sometimes, we don’t have to,_ she amended to herself.

She brushed her lips against his cheek. “Me too,” she murmured.

* * *

“It’s a company,” Leo said, handing Will a single slip of paper, folded once. “Called The Pantheon. As far as I can tell, they’re involved in a whole bunch of stuff. Industry. Estate. Properties. Shares. Trading.” He shrugged. “Basically anything that makes money.”

Will traced the logo that Leo had sketched onto the paper, a building of Roman appearance, with three columns and a triangular roof. It looked vaguely familiar to him, like something he had seen out of the corner of his eye and shoved to the back of his head. “Why would Ares be making regular payments to them?”

Leo shrugged. “Our best guess is that he’s involved in some dodgy business with them, which is why he’s keeping it off the books. Jason thinks tax evasion. That’s everywhere nowadays, isn’t it?”

Will folded the paper thoughtfully. “I’ll let Sherman know.”

“What’s he going to do about it?” Leo asked curiously, slouching back onto the sofa. It reminded Will of the first time they had met - Leo had been laying fully stretched out across the turquoise cushions, and had flashed him a peace sign and a grin.

“I have no idea,” Will said honestly, then checked his watch. “I’ll let him know, though. And I really can’t thank you enough.”

Leo shrugged. “Don’t mention it.”

“No, really,” Will said firmly. “I owe you one.”

“We don’t owe,” Leo repeated. Then, “But I wouldn’t say no to a taco.”

Will smiled. “You got it.” He collected his coat. It was already dark out and he could see the shadowed outline of his car across the street, a street lamp reflected in the window. “Hey, Leo, could I ask you something about Nico?”

“Shoot.”

“Does he have a sister?” Will asked. “You know, other than Hazel.”

Leo’s eyes flickered upwards. “Did Nico tell you that?”

Will watched his friend. “I saw a picture of her in his house.” He paused. “Nico seemed bothered when I asked him about her.”

Leo sighed. “Her name was Bianca.” His fingers stilled on the silver lid of his laptop. “She was Percy’s friend, and Annabeth’s and Thalia’s too. And she died.”

* * *

_Well, it goes like this:_

_The fourth, the fifth, the minor fall and the major lift._

_~Leonard Cohen, “Hallelujah”_

* * *

Will was cooking when Nico came home that night, grilling chicken for salad, with the window thrown open and the lights dampened so that the moonlight threw spires all around the room. When Nico came into the kitchen, Will handed him a plate without speaking. “You’re cooking,” Nico said, placing it on the table and shrugging off his jacket.

“Observant as always,” Will replied, fetching some cutlery and taking some glasses form the cabinet. The wine was cold and pale like champagne. There were not many things that Will had inherited from his father, but an appreciation for white wine was one. “Where did you go last night?”

Nico tried the chicken and nodded in approval at the taste. “To Hazel’s, but she wasn’t there. I have a key.”

Will drizzled some dressing onto his salad. “I told you that having a flatmate was more difficult that it seemed,” he said lightly.

“It wasn’t that.”

“No,” Will said. “It was the picture.” Nico stabbed another piece of chicken and said nothing. Will took a deep breath. “Leo told me about Bianca.”

The fork slipped through Nico’s fingers and clanged against the porcelain plate like a high-pitched gong, which made Will wince. “Oh.”

The silence between them stretched into distance like a winding road. Will put his own fork down and folded his hands. “It’s none of my business. I overstepped, and I apologise.”

“You-” Nico broke off and shook his head. “ _You_ apologise? I should have told you about Bianca months ago. You’re my-” He broke off once again, and closed his eyes for a brief moment. When he opened them again, there were beams of light reflected. “You’re my friend. In any case, I should be apologising to you.”

“Er,” Will said. “Really?”

Nico avoided Will’s gaze. The silence was blue, like dappled light over them, and Will waited with held breath. At last, Nico spoke, in a voice as quiet as a whisper. “I shouldn’t have pushed you away.”

Beauty in the moonlight.

* * *

_Watch the stars, and see yourself running with them._

_~Marcus Aurelius, “Meditations”_

* * *

“The Pantheon,” Sherman repeated, then shrugged. “Never heard of it.”

“No, neither have I,” Will said. Sherman’s office had a view of the whole city, all glass and sleek lines, glossy and shined. Will’s blood was still buzzing from Nico’s words the night before - _I shouldn’t have pushed you away_. “Are you going to talk to your father about it?”

“If he ever responded to my messages, maybe I would,” Sherman shrugged. “Ares is the definition of tough love.”

“Do you mind?” Will asked curiously.

“I used to,” Sherman answered, equally thoughtful. “But it made me the person I am.”

“Well,” Will said. “If you have any other questions, feel free to ask.”

Sherman placed the piece of paper onto the table underneath his keyboard and swept some books off the table into a crate by the side of the desk in one smooth movement. “This is very helpful, Will. How much do I owe you?”

Will waved his hand at the question, but Sherman insisted, so Will agreed to check what the Agency’s rate was. “Also, what’s with all these boxes?”

“Oh, they’re some old documents, books, things that were archived,” Sherman said irritably. “They just showed up at the offices; probably my father’s doing.”

Will pushed the flaps of the nearest one open. On top was lying a copy of Marcus Aurelius’ _Meditations_. “Are you going to read them all?” he asked, running his fingers over it. The blue velvet cover was absolutely lovely, embossed with gold writing.

“Good Lord, no,” Sherman laughed. “I’d be reading for the rest of my life. They’re to be burned. At least, the memo that came with it instructed so.”

Will stood up. He didn’t read as much as Frank or Annabeth, but he loved old books, and the bookshelf in his room was still empty. “Mind if I have a quick look?”

Sherman waved his hand. “Take whatever you like.”

Will selected _Meditations_ , a leather-bound volume of D.H. Lawrence, and some H.P. Lovecraft short stories that he knew Nico would enjoy. As he turned from one box, he knocked another. The volumes and papers spilled across the floor like a river of pages and Will swore. “Sorry,” he apologised as he gathered them up. “Accident.”

“Oh, I can tidy it,” Sherman said, but Will had already stacked the books and was tipping them back into the box. A sheaf of numbered documents, a file, two tomes with the binding unravelling, a roll of papers and a small black notebook.

“Don’t worry about it,” Will said, picking up the last and flipping idly through. “I’m just clumsy. Always was.”

“Yeah, you were,” Sherman laughed, and tapped at his keyboard. “Remember that time…”

Sherman’s words all faded to a buzz, black and white. Will flipped frantically back through the pages of the little book in his hands. The handwriting, spindly and sharp, was unfamiliar to him. But he had seen the name on the inside of the book, along with an address that was familiar - indeed, Will had been there himself, as they wheeled a body away.

Sherman was still talking. Will had reached the front of the book again, and stared down at the title page. “Will? Are you alright?”

Will’s hand closed around the book, crumpling some of the pages carelessly, and smiled blankly. “Yeah, of course,” he answered, and slipped the black notebook between H.P. Lovecraft’s stories. “I’m fine.”

His pulse was thudding at his throat, and as soon as he left the office, he turned the car towards the Olympus building. The stack of books, the black notebook in the middle, sat on the passenger seat next to him, with the most surprising discovery of all scrawled across the inside of the cover.

_This book is the property of Luke Castellan._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you enjoyed! Please review. :)


	9. Blood, Water and Wine

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ok, kids. Here we go.

_Well I’ve got open eyes / And an open door /_

_But I don’t know what I’m searching for._

_~Passenger, “Whispers”_

* * *

Will was on the phone with Jason even as he pulled up in front of the Agency, and Percy burst out the front door, his hair mussed and his eyes red. He pulled the door of the driver’s seat open and fairly yanked Will out into the road. “Tell me again,” he ordered, although Will hadn’t told him anything in the first place. “How did you find the notebook?”

Will locked the car and gathered the stack of books in his arms. “I went to Sherman’s building to tell him about his dad’s accounts.” They went into the office; everyone was assembled. Annabeth’s eyes were alight with a mixture of focus and excitement. Piper was eating a bowl of pasta single-handedly and scribbling notes with the other. Luke’s autopsy report was lying on the table next to her papers along with some analysis results - she had obviously been up in the lab before he had called. Only Nico was not there. “Er, hi.”

“Keep going,” Hazel told him. She, too, had an open notepad turned to a fresh page. “We’re all up to date.”

_Of course you are_. “So I went to see Sherman. He said that all these boxes had been delivered to the office, full of books and papers and stuff that someone - his father, he assumes - didn’t want anymore. He was going to have them thrown away or burned.” Leo was typing - the usual. Jason sat cross-legged on the floor, twisting strands of the rug between his fingers. “Sherman said that I could take some books, so I was looking through; I tipped a box over and the notebook was inside.”

“What else?” Annabeth asked.

Will shrugged, but he knew the answer, because he had known that she would ask. “There were two Charles Dickens books, some sheets with only numbers and a file about office spaces.”

They were all seated, staring at him, and he was standing with his back to the door and his arms still full of books. There was an space next to Leo. He felt strangely like he was being interrogated. “Can I sit?” Will asked awkwardly. Leo was already patting the empty seat. “Thanks.”

Annabeth put out a hand and Will rifled through the stack, extracted the notebook and gave it to her. “How did this get into Sherman’s hands?” Hazel wondered.

Will shrugged. “Sherman said his dad-”

“But why would his father have it?” Leo frowned. “Did he know Luke?”

“Will,” Percy said. Annabeth didn’t open the book. She ran her fingers over the hard cover gently. “Does Sherman know about this?”

“No,” Will replied uncertainly, his gaze darting to Percy. “I thought it was best if I didn’t say…”

Percy gave him a small smile, as if to reassure Will that he had done correctly. “Good.” Then, he was all business. “Maybe if we read it, we’ll find out if Luke had any connections with Ares. Annabeth and I will handle the diary. Will, Pipes, if you two don’t mind helping us with that?” Piper nodded once. “And Jason, if you and Leo help Hazel and Frank follow up with their-”

“No,” Annabeth said, cutting him off. They all looked round in surprise; Annabeth had placed the notebook on the coffee table. “Piper and I will help Hazel and Leo, and you and Jason can have Frank and Will go over the notebook with you, when they’re available.” Jason and Leo exchanged a quick glance. “Frank could use a palate cleanser anyway, as Leo’s so fond of saying. And I can’t read Luke’s diary; I’m not exactly an un-biased opinion.”

Percy stared at her. “Are you sure?”

Annabeth glared. “Would I say so if I wasn’t?”

He looked at her like she was the most wonderful thing under the sky; it made Will think about Nico, wonder if he looked that way sometimes. “Wise girl,” Percy said at last, “I love you.” Annabeth glowed a little. “Alright, team. You heard the lady. Let’s roll.”

* * *

“Hey,” Piper said to Will. “Before you start on Luke’s notebook, I need your opinion about something.”

“Sure,” Will said easily.

“Come up to the lab with me,” she requested.

“Is this about Luke’s autopsy?” Will asked as they tramped up the steps together. Piper moved gracefully ahead of him.

“You’d make a great detective,” Piper told him as she turned on the landing, a grin on her face at the joke.

“So I’ve been told,” he responded.

“It’s about his autopsy report. I know you’ve seen Luke’s body, but I’ve just received the full report from Nico’s friend Kayla, with some additional notes.” She pushed open the door. Other than his first day, Will had never been inside Piper’s lab. She worked part-time, like Nico, Leo, Frank and Will himself, and was often away. But today, the entire lab was buzzing, and the wind-up clock on the wall was ticking away. The curtains were drawn and all thrown open.

“Should we put on lab coats or something?” Will asked.

“No need,” Piper said. “Sit down. Leave all snacks outside.” She tossed the lab report across the table at him, and he opened it and started to flip through. Piper made coffee at the side table and sat opposite him, nursing her mug. “Look at this part,” she instructed tapping on one of the pages with immaculate nails.

“Thought we weren’t supposed to have snacks,” Will said, lifting an eyebrow at her cup.

“ _You_ aren’t,” Piper grinned.

The analysis of Luke’s clothes showed dust and blood; nothing particularly shocking. But the substances on his shoes were a different story. Brick clay, seeds, the tiny pebbles found in ornamental gardens. “And look at this about the blood,” Piper said, turning the page. “The blood on the floor had grown bacteria. DPG and pH were low, too.”

“So he’d have been dead at least, what, at least several days by the time they did the autopsy?” Will asked. “But we already knew that.”

“The autopsy says seventy-two hours,” Piper said. “Ah, but here. Look, the abrasions and lacerations. Same time window as the blood. But something about the bruises is bothering me.”

_Follow your instincts, wherever they lead_. It was something that one of his professors had told him in medical school, and Percy and Annabeth had adopted the expression immediately, with fervent agreement.

“Hey,” he noticed. “There were bruises on Luke’s neck, but they didn’t do a neck examination.”

Piper’s expression was one of professional satisfaction. Will was familiar with the feeling. “Do they usually?”

“Yeah,” Will frowned. Piper looked at him expectantly, and he elaborated. “Sometimes, it’s difficult to tell whether bruises were made before or after the death. Pathologists try to tell by examining the area in detail - sometimes, especially in the neck, it can be helpful to let the any collected blood leak out.”

“So why wouldn’t they do it?” Piper wondered.

Will shrugged. “We could ask Nico’s friend Kayla. Mind you, not everybody does it.” The memory of that day at the morgue washed over him. Nico, standing outside his door in sunglasses. The radio had been playing The Beatles. “Kayla didn’t do the autopsy,” Will remembered suddenly, sitting up straighter. “She said somebody else did it.” He looked at Piper. “Neeks told me afterwards that if temps are working, they do the procedures.”

Piper placed his mug down on the steel bench gently. “This thing, and the fact that they ruled it a suicide when it’s so obviously incorrect. That’s two inaccuracies with the autopsy report now.”

“You think that they did it on purpose.”

“I think someone was paid to throw off any official police investigation,” Piper agreed. “Probably whoever killed him in the first place.” Will let the implications of this sunk in. It made him a little uncomfortable - he always viewed medicine as a profession of purity, and the practitioners of sound moral judgement. Naturally, he had met a great many doctors who did not fit the bill. He didn’t need the reminders. Piper seemed equally disturbed; she said sarcastically, “This just gets better and better.”

Someone had neglected an in-depth examination of Luke’s bruises. They were few on his neck, but he had bruises on his arms too, and shoulders, in a reportedly indistinguishable pattern. Perhaps Luke had acquired the bruises before his death in a fight - but that was unlikely, Will reasoned, since there were no abrasions on his face or head. Or - “Oh, God.”

The police had swept the entire scene, and Percy and Jason had used all the connections and wits at their disposal to be allowed to examine the house as well. There had been nothing of any significance. The scene had been ruled, by both the police and the Agency, as insignificant. “What?” Piper asked.

“The cause of death was the gun, we know that much,” Will told them, and they both nodded. “So the bruises were probably made after he died.”

Piper’s lips pressed together in a grim expression. “You mean-”

Will nodded. “Somebody dragged Luke’s body somewhere; that’s where the bruises came from.”

Piper swept the hair from her face, her eyes wide. “Whoever killed him moved his body from the actual scene into that house. We’ve been looking in the wrong place.”

* * *

Piper was absent from all other discussion that day. She locked the door to the lab to everyone, including Jason, intent upon finding the true site of Luke’s murder. Will explained their new revelations to the others in short, clipped sentences.

When they heard, Jason swore so badly that Will felt compelled to put his fingers in his ears. Hazel, for once, said nothing to scold him, but only scowled at the window. Percy’s face was full of thunder; he had been on edge all day. “You guys,” Frank said bracingly. He had arrived when Will was up in the lab. “You couldn’t have known.”

“Do you know how much time we will have lost in these days?” Annabeth said furiously, physically pinching herself on the arm, which Will watched with alarm. “The original scene probably has no evidence left, so even if we find it-”

“It won’t matter. It doesn’t matter. We’re going to find these bastards anyway,” Leo said fiercely, grabbing Jason’s shoulder and shaking it. “So you’d better cheer the fuck up, and let’s get to work.”

Jason met Leo’s eyes, and a determination set in his frame. “You’re right,” he said. “We missed that; we can’t miss anything else.”

“That’s more like it,” Leo said approvingly. “Let’s take these fuckers down.”

* * *

_“Could be a coincidence… But the universe is rarely so lazy.”_

_~Mark Gatiss, Steven Moffat and Stephen Thompson, “Sherlock”_

* * *

Will had been sent on a coffee run, and when he returned to the office, he finally asked the question that had been on his mind since he arrived. “Where exactly is Nico?”

“He’s not here,” Percy said tersely without looking up, somewhat unnecessarily. Then, when Will said nothing, he looked up, his expression softening into something that was similar to sympathy. “Nico never comes into work on this day. It’s the anniversary of Bianca’s death.”

Will blinked. “ _Oh_ -“

“I went with him to the cemetery this morning,” Percy continued, returning his eyes to the notebook. Jason moved suddenly, as if to comfort his friend, but then his hand fell back to his side. “But Nico went home. He wasn’t feeling well.”

“Percy,” Frank said gently. “Should you be working-”

“I’m fine,” Percy said, and Will got the impression that it was something he had said a lot today. “Let’s get to work.”

Will looked in confusion from Percy to Frank, but the latter only shook his head and went to turn the kettle on.

Percy had copied the pages of the diary and enlarged them, and the four of them combed each page from top to bottom. Luke’s handwriting was legible, but his notes surprisingly disorganised. It was late afternoon before Jason let out a hoarse gasp. The pen in his hand clattered to the floor as he stared at the page, then leapt forward and snatched the next pages in his stack wordlessly.

“What?” Percy asked sharply. “Jase, what is it?”

One of Jason’s hands had gone to his mouth as his eyes scanned the pages frantically. “Oh… _shit_.”

“ _What_?” Percy repeated insistently.

“Percy,” Jason said in a shaky voice. “Come and look at this.”

They all crowded around behind him and leaned in to look at the pages. Will squinted to make out the words written there, and as he read them, his heart sank like an anchor in a still sea.

* * *

_Saw dad today. Asked_ _again_ _, and finally, he admitted that he was involved in the whole bloody sordid affair. I asked him whether he had sent those death threats. Didn’t confirm it, but he didn’t deny it either. He asked me to stop looking into it. Said that it was more dangerous than I understood. Told him that I’d stop when he did - and to go to Hell. Why dad thinks I’d just turn a blind eye to his involvement in this entire business, I have no idea. Don’t want to make assumptions about who else is involved, but have my suspicions._

_Train to London this afternoon. 3:40 pm._

_Note: Pointless asking Hermes to go to Hell, though, isn’t it? He’d probably enjoy it there._

* * *

Hermes had worn an untucked shirt, and the suit jacket and trousers had fit him like a glove. He had a handsome face, those blue eyes, clouded with alcohol and grief. He had stood alone, away from the masses, looking at his phone, and nearly wept while speaking about his son.

He had seemed so sorrowful, so broken by Luke’s death. Will wondered whether or not he had known Luke was going to die.

“Him?” he whispered, terror constricting his chest, squeezing until he couldn’t breathe. “He was involved in Luke’s death?” Will was too stunned to do anything but stare. “But he’s Luke’s _father_ …oh, God, no.”

“ _No_ ,” Percy repeated, covering his mouth.

Jason shook his head, speechless.

Frank rested his head in his hand, as if it weighed the world.

A cross to bear.

* * *

_Five shall go west to the goddess in chains,_

_One shall be lost in the land without rain,_

_The bane of Olympus shows the trail,_

_Campers and Hunters combined prevail,_

_The Titan’s curse must one withstand,_

_And one shall perish by a parent’s hand._

_~Rick Riordan, “The Titan’s Curse”_

* * *

Hazel had never understood Leo’s line of work. Indeed, she barely understood how to use her phone, and therefore, her friend’s understanding of technology never failed to impress her. At the moment, he was explaining to her and Annabeth about the work that he and Frank had done so far. From Annabeth’s expression, Hazel could tell that they were both equally as confused.

“We’re pretty close to finding the root of all this; we just have to wait for the program to finish doing its thing.”

“Great,” Annabeth said uncertainly. “What can we do to help?”

Leo stretched out, his feet dangling off the edge of the sofa. “Nothing, really. We’re just waiting. Want afternoon tea? I could do tacos."

“No,” Annabeth said shortly. “I don’t want tacos.”

Leo made a face. “God, you lot have been in a mood all day; what’s going on?”

Hazel saw Annabeth glance towards her. “It’s the anniversary of Bianca’s death today.”

Leo’s face fell immediately. “Oh, Hazel, I forgot, I’m so sorry-”

“Please don’t,” Hazel held up her hand. “I barely knew her.”

“Neither,” Annabeth added. “But Percy’s really cut up about it, and Nico’s probably a right mess today.”

Leo propped his chin in his hand, his dark eyes thoughtful. “Nico and Percy seem to be getting along a lot better these days.”

“They are,” Hazel nodded. “Nico asked Percy to go with him to the grave, which is a far cry from what would have happened in the years after Bianca died.”

Leo flopped back down and stared up at the ceiling. “So Nico doesn’t still blame Perce, then?”

Hazel said nothing. She didn’t remember much about Bianca. Nico’s dark eyes, a silver jacket, a kind smile. She had died on impact, Nico had said. The others had been lucky to be alive. Zoe, a friend of theirs, had been in the front passenger seat - she had insisted on Bianca coming along in the first place, and had cried all the way through the funeral. Thalia had been shielded from the crash by Bianca’s body. Grover, Percy’s best friend, had been sitting in the back seat as well, and had lost consciousness when his head slammed into the window. Percy had been behind the wheel. But only Bianca had died.

In her heart, Hazel didn’t think Nico had ever blamed Percy. It was difficult, though. Bianca had been his whole world.

“They went to see a fortune teller,” Annabeth said suddenly, staring down at her hands. “At one of the towns they drove by. Percy told me after the funeral, and I’ve been thinking about it a lot…because of Luke.”

“A fortune teller?” Leo asked, a furrow in his brow. Hazel tucked her knees up under her chin and listened. Nico had told her all of this, one particularly bad year. It was the only time Hazel had seen him drunk. She hated this story.

Annabeth let out a breath. “Yeah. You know, one of those kooky travelling circus things. Crystal balls. Big wispy shawls. Incense. Apparently, it was just a laugh. None of them believed in fortune tellers, but they thought it would be fun.” She sipped at her tea. “Percy said it was kind of scary, but they didn’t really pay attention to what she said.”

“And what _did_ she say?” Leo asked.

“I don’t know the details, but Percy did tell me one thing that she said,” Annabeth said. “ _One shall be lost in the land without rain_.”

Hazel was cold all over, ice in her fingertips and sour in her mouth as she spoke to Leo. “They were driving in the desert when they crashed. And Bianca died.”

Bizarrely, Annabeth’s eyes were filling with tears. “But,” Leo said weakly, “it was probably just a coincidence. There was no way they could have known that-"

“That’s what I told Percy,” Annabeth said. “But you know how he is.”

_Yes_ , Hazel thought. “Yes,” Leo said. “Gods, poor Percy. Poor _Nico_.”

Poor Nico. Even now, Hazel had never met anyone so melancholy as her brother, although lately, that had started to change. Nico was lighter, he smiled, he spoke more easily around them. He stared at Will when he thought nobody else was looking.

Her musings were interrupted when Leo’s laptop made a noise. He fairly leapt up off the sofa and fell over himself reading the results. They looked over his shoulder, and Hazel saw a symbol that looked rather like a temple. “The Pantheon,” she read. “What’s The Pantheon?”

“A company, maybe?” Annabeth suggested, pulling her own laptop towards her. “Looks like a pretty official logo.”

“It’s a company,” Leo confirmed quietly. “They’re involved in all manner of business. They make a lot of money.”

“And how do you know that?” Annabeth asked.

“Because,” Leo said slowly, “I’ve seen this logo very recently.” Hazel glanced towards him, surprised. “Sherman, Will’s friend, asked us to look into some payments his father had made. This is where they went.”

“Sherman Yang’s father?” Annabeth asked sharply. “Ares? How’s he involved?”

“Could be a coincidence, I suppose,” Leo asked distractedly, fingers flying across the keys.

“Will found Luke’s notebook in Sherman’s office,” Hazel reminded him. “And you’ve seen the same company logo twice in the same number of days. I doubt that’s a coincidence.”

“Ares is a rich, too,” Annabeth joined. “I remember from school days. Rich, even for _Hemitheos_. He could have paid off the coroner who did the autopsy.”

Hazel shook her head, and Leo made a face of disgust. “You never think of criminals being fathers. You assume they have more compassion, having kids of their own.”

When Hazel had become a detective, Hades had given her some advice. _Anyone can be a killer, given the right motives. That means anyone can be dangerous,_ he’d said to her. _Be careful._ “We should probably tell the others,” Annabeth said. And she rose slowly, pensive, and went to the door. She stood there for several minutes before opening it, and found Jason standing on the other side, his face pale.

* * *

_Food is memories_

_~Steven Knight, “The Hundred-Foot Journey”_

* * *

As soon as Will opened the door, he could smell the food. The mouth-watering scent nearly made his eyes water, and he took his coat off before going to the kitchen and peering carefully inside. “Neeks, did you order some really expensive takeout, or-” He stopped abruptly.

In front of him, Nico had rolled his sleeves up to the elbow and had donned a black apron. He stood in front of the stove. All the lights blazed overhead, the fan was on and the radio blasted out some kind of opera at the maximum possible volume. Will wondered, with the little part of his brain that could think over the music, whether he had wandered into a fever dream. “Nico,” he said, but the dark-haired man did not turn around. “Neeks,” he tried again, louder. “ _Nico_.” Nico stirred the pot with one hand and tasted sauce with the other. There was sweat collecting in the dip of the spine at his neck, shining against the pale skin under the light. Will stared, frozen and somewhat hypnotised.

Nico added some salt to the sauce and hummed along under his breath, wiping his hands on his apron, reached for the pepper and finally noticed Will standing in the doorway. “Oh, hi,” he said loudly before turning down the radio. “Why are you just standing there?” There was flour in his hair, and sauce on his hands and wrists. Will seemed to have lost the ability to speak. “Want some pasta?”

“You’re cooking,” Will said finally.

“Observant as always,” Nico teased.

“I didn’t know you could cook.”

Nico grinned. “Well, you never asked.” Wordlessly, Will put his bag down and set the table. Nico served the pasta and ladled the sauce deftly, placing one plate down in front of each of them.

Will had never noticed Nico pray before eating, but Nico did not explain so Will didn’t ask. Instead, he took a bite of pasta and his eyes fluttered closed involuntarily. “Oh my God,” he said, although he was too busy trying to maximise function of his taste buds to enunciate properly. “Nico, _oh my God_.”

“The sauce is too thin.”

“Shut up,” Will ordered, taking another mouthful. “You’re ruining it by speaking. This is the best thing I’ve ever tasted.” Was there anything Nico couldn’t do? _God_ , Will hated him. “Jesus _Christ_. I can’t believe you let me feed you chicken and salad and shitty tacos these past couple of days, when you can cook like _this_?”

“Don’t exaggerate, Will,” Nico said tersely.

“Exaggerate? This is a miracle of the kitchen, a symphony of flavour, a _marvel of epicurean delight_ -”

“You’re an idiot,” Nico said, but he looked inordinately pleased.

“Seriously, where did you learn to cook like this?”

Nico was quiet for a moment. Then - “Bianca.”

Will laid down his fork as Nico stared down into his pasta. A tentative silence. “Will you tell me about her?”

Nico let out a soft puff of air. “Yes.” It had been a hesitant answer, but it was the unlocking of a vault, and suddenly, Will saw all of Nico di Angelo in his words about his sister. Bianca had been an A-grade student. She had written poetry as a child. She had gone to the park every day after school to feed the ducks. Growing up in Venice as the children of diplomats, they were perfectly bilingual. When Hades had come to take them to America, Bianca had gotten hold of an English dictionary and taught Nico every rude word she could find. “So that’s where you get your filthy mouth,” Will grinned.

Nico laughed. “She said it would help me fit in. I think I scared the other kids a bit.”

Once, in a fit of fearlessness, Bianca had jumped from a low bridge onto a passing gondola, then leapt from boat to boat until she reached the side of the canal. She had loved fresh flowers and listening to opera with all the windows of the house thrown open. She had hated America, but loved London, and always wanted to return to Venice.

It was like a canopy of candles at dusk, the way Nico lit up when he spoke about his older sister. His eyes glowed with affection and his lips curled upwards while Will watched in fascination. Nico’s voice was bright with untarnished memory, and it was clear that he had loved her, more than anything else in the world.

At last the stories, tumbling over each other like river water, began to slow. Nico spoke more quietly now, about their mother’s death; how it had broken Bianca’s heart and made her responsible for him, even though she had never asked for that responsibility. Nico stopped speaking. Will saw him swallow. His Adam’s apple bobbed up and down. It had been her dream to go to medical school. “She wanted to be a doctor,” Nico said. “Like you.” He rested his dark eyes on Will.

Will smiled. “I would have liked her, I think.”

“Yeah,” Nico said quietly. “I think so too.” His eyes gleamed wet under the kitchen lights, and Will knew it was no longer just from memory.

He averted his eyes as Nico turned away; he ate some more of the ecstasy-inducing pasta. “You alright?” he asked quietly, his eyes fixed on the plate.

“Yeah,” Nico said, so softly that Will almost didn’t hear. “I’m alright.”

Will kept eating. _Thank you, Bianca_. “Your sister would have been proud of you.” Quiet. “This pasta really is exquisite.”

Then Nico said, in a voice that sounded like shattered crystal, “Thank you.”

Will’s head snapped upwards. Nico’s eyes were wide, like stars against his pale skin, and his lashes were wet with tears. One escaped from its orbit and trailed past Nico’s cheekbone. Will fought down the irrational urge to wipe it away. Instead, he reached across the table and covered one of Nico’s hands with his own. “I shouldn’t have asked,” he said. It came out a whisper. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be,” Nico said fiercely. “I want to talk about Bianca; I want people to know her. I loved her.” His voiced trailed off abruptly and Will gripped his fingers. Nico gripped back, which made a spark shoot up with Will’s fingers.

“You loved her so much,” he said, very gently. “And that will never go away.”

Nico stared at him. “I wish you could have met her.”

Will squeezed Nico’s fingers one last time and prepared to pull away. Nico was beautiful tonight, like a blown-glass statue, but he was fragile too, and Will couldn’t touch that even though he wanted to. “I do, too,” he answered. “But I know her brother.” He gave Nico a shaky smile. “And that’s enough for anyone.”

The plates needed cleaning and there were multiple pots on the stove that should have been soaked before they started to eat. There probably wouldn’t be enough room on the rack to dry them all, so Will would have to find a clean dishcloth to wipe them dry. But as he reached across to collect Nico’s plate, long fingers wrapped around his wrist. “Will,” Nico said hoarsely, and he looked across into those luminous dark eyes.

There was a long, slow current between them, electric and tenuous. “Yes?” Will said, and found himself whispering again. It was like a little bird, fluttering between them, frightened and taking flight. “Nico, what is it?”

For someone as quick as Nico di Angelo, he moved very slowly. His hands were shaking as they cupped Will’s neck and drew him forward. But even the hesitancy with which Nico was leaning in did not seem slow enough, because Will couldn’t seem to understand what was happening.

Until Nico’s lips were on his own, soft and careful and warm and burning, and Will could only think _oh_ , before even thoughts dissolved into nothing.

* * *

_All I know is, darling,_

_I was made for loving you._

_~Tori Kelly & Ed Sheeran, “I Was Made for Loving You”_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you enjoyed! Please review. :)


	10. Such Strange Happenings

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Solved it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter fought me every step of the way, but we became friends, I made it to the end and now its my favourite so far. Enjoy!

_There’s a shadow hanging over me /_

_Oh, yesterday came suddenly._

_~The Beatles, “Yesterday”_

* * *

His mind had left his body. It floated up towards the night sky. The planets and stars burned behind his eyes, and his heart pounded so fiercely in his chest that he was sure everybody in the room would hear.

Nico had kissed him the night before. It had felt strangely similar to this. But this was different, because that had not been painful, only sweet and warm and thrilling, a delicious swirl of sensation.

Will would give anything to go back to that minute, or any other minute of his life. He should have stayed home, or lying in bed with Nico, watching the Sun come up. He should have done anything but answer Jason’s call.

But it was too late.

Time could not be turned back.

* * *

His mind had left his body.

Through the window, he could see a full, unfettered moon sailing above the line of lamps. He imagined himself trailing behind, like a cloud of stars, hazy and soft. The room was warm all around him, the duvet soft and unfamiliar, and Nico’s presence at his back, a different sort of warm.

He slipped from between the sheets and went to the window, pushing it up. Cold air rushed in over his bare shoulders, prickling his skin. The light breeze teased at his hair and he closed his eyes.

_“Is this ok?”_

Even though Nico had initiated the kiss, he had seemed strangely hesitant about the entire situation.

_“It’s ok_.”

Sweetness and sunshine.

_“Are you sure?”_

_“Nico, shut up.”_

Will wasn’t sure at what point they moved to the bedroom. There was Nico’s warm breath on his lips and a cool wetness on his cheeks. When Will had moved his hand to his own face, he saw that Nico’s eyes were full of tears.

_“What’s wrong?”_

_“Nothing.”_

_“But you’re crying.”_

Nico had kissed him again, more fiercely this time. Will could taste the pasta sauce, and the wine. There had been no more space for conversation.

They had kissed, and Nico had cried. Will leant his elbows on the windowsill and stuck his head out. The entire upper half of his body was doused in refreshing air. They had been speaking about Bianca; he remembered that very clearly. Nico had come alive in a whole different way, as if a part of him had died with Bianca. Which, Will supposed, had happened. Was that all he had been? Something to fill the void for Bianca, on the night when she had died, all those years ago?

_Poor girl_.

Will laced his fingers together gently. His father had a temper; something most people did not know, but Will had not inherited it. _Life is a river_. If he was only one night to Nico, then he would accept that, despite his heart. But it would only be the one night.

“Will?”

He turned. Nico was blinking his eyes open, sleepy and heavy-lidded. Will leant one elbow on the window sill and grinned. “Good morning.”

Nico squinted past him into the sky. “Very early morning, more like,” he corrected. “Why are you up?”

“Just thinking.”

“About what?”

_You_.

“Oh, just this and that,” Will shrugged. Nico stared at him for a few more moments, then rolled his eyes and pulled the covers back on the empty side of the bed. Will obliged, sliding back into the warmth, although his shoulders and torso were cold where Nico’s fingers pressed into him.

He lay still and closed his eyes. “Are you asleep yet?” he asked quietly, even though he could tell Nico wasn’t.

“Nope.”

“Can I ask you a question?” Will said.

The moon was moving through the sky, further and further out of sight. Only its edge now sat over the window, spilling a single sliver of light over them. “Sure,” Nico said.

Will lifted his hands so that his fingers were dappled with moonlight. “Why did you kiss me?”

Nico’s face was as still as stone. “There’s usually a pretty clear reason.”

His father was a creature of the Sun. He glowed and sparkled by daylight, and grew pensive at night. The moon made people do strange things. Will asked, “Was last night because of Bianca?”

There was an awful silence, then Nico sat up. He, too, was bare-chested, his back smooth and without blemish, like milk in the pale moon. Will couldn’t see his face, and couldn’t decide if this was a good thing or bad. “Why would you think that?” Nico asked carefully, the line of his shoulders rigid.

Will considered his answer. “You were upset,” he said finally. “And we were talking about her.”

“And you think that would make me kiss you.”

The moon made people do strange things. Grief did too.

“I miss Bianca,” Nico said in a voice so low that it almost blended with the rumble of a passing truck. “Every second of every day.”

“I know that,” Will replied. The missing piece of Nico was etched onto him; the way he walked and talked, like there was too much sadness for him to bear.

“And yesterday was no different. I made pasta because I missed her, and it reminds me of her.” Nico made a movement with his hands that Will couldn’t see. “But I kissed you because we talked about her, and it _didn’t_ make me sad.” He turned now, so that Will saw his eyes, glowing and full of _something_ that Will didn’t dare name.

He said nothing.

Nico hurried on. “It wasn’t because of Bianca. It - this isn’t all because of her. I don’t want you to think that.”

“Then what is the reason?” Will asked, not unkindly.

Nico pressed his lips together. “Ever since Bi died, there’s been this…grief. At first, it was painful, but then I got used to it. It was a part of me.” He looked at Will seriously. “You make it ok.”

“I make it ok,” Will repeated, trying to make sense of this statement.

“There’s always been so much sadness,” Nico said matter-of-factly. “There was never room for anything else. But it’s like there’s more space in me since you…” He trailed off and tilted his head to the side, as if trying to find the words. Finally, he spoke. “You don’t try to make me feel happy all the time. But around you, I just do.” There was a bubble of delicious warmth growing in Will’s chest, and it burst, and trailed stars and sunlight through his veins. Nico had pulled his legs up under his chin, and smiled. “I told you that you were full of light.”

Will couldn’t say anything. Instead, he reached over and put his fingertips against Nico’s.

_Take it_ , he thought wildly to the universe. _If I have light inside me, take it, and give it to Nico di Angelo_.

The universe didn’t answer him.

Except with a phone call.

Will had never believed in karma until now.

* * *

Nico drove, and with none of the careful control that he usually displayed. For someone with a traumatic car accident in his past, he was shockingly reckless behind the wheel tonight. There was hardly anyone out. The neon numbers on the dashboard read _2:21 am_ , and they raced through the streets so quickly that the whole world blurred.

Jason had spoke urgently on the phone, and hadn’t asked why Will and Nico were awake. Piper had analysed something that he couldn’t explain. She had found several locations that might have been where Luke was killed. One was a warehouse. Warehouses were suspicious, so they were going there, and they wanted the whole team, so could Will and Nico come and meet them. Wear sensible shoes. Wait outside. Might be dangerous.

“As if that’s helpful information,” Nico muttered under his breath as they dressed in a flurry and raced down the steps to the garage. “None of us are exactly experts at martial arts, are we?"

“I took archery at summer camp.”

“Very helpful, Legolas.”

The engine of the car roared around them. It had been a gift from Nico’s father, along with a chauffeur called Jules-Albert, who took long vacation time at his own discretion. Nico had named the car _Shadow_ , like some kind of grungy race-horse, and it had a divider that went up and down, like in the movies. The boot was stocked with champagne, and Will was growing seriously concerned about the glass bottles, as Nico swung the car left ninety degrees with an alarming screech of tires.

“ _Slow down_ ,” Will said, gripping the handle above his head. “I don’t want to die before we even get there.”

He could feel the eye roll from the driver’s seat as it happened. “Oh, please. I’ve been driving around on these streets since I was thirteen. I think I can handle it.”

“ _Thirteen_?”

Will stopped asking questions after that. He was not a detective. Some things, he decided, were better left unknown.

* * *

The warehouse loomed like a haunted house, and Will had always hated those. “Are we the first ones here?”

“Looks like,” Nico said, stepping out of the car.

“Thanks to your maniac driving.”

“Don’t be so sure,” Nico said, his voice breaking the quiet. “They’re probably almost here. Jason, Percy and I all had the same driving teacher.”

“And who was that?” Will asked, leaning against the bonnet as they waited. He tried to calm his nerves. The metal gate, the _keep out_ sign, the darkness all unsettled him, turning his insides to soup. “Lightning McQueen?”

“Jules-Albert.”

Will frowned. “I thought he was your chauffeur. Shouldn’t he be a sensible driver?”

Nico grinned. “He was a car racer in the sixties. Drifting, setting wheels on fire, breaking every safety law on earth-”

“Good lord,” Will muttered. “What a miracle that any of you are alive.”

Nico bumped shoulders with him, which made his heart jump and his lips curl in a stupid grin. God, being in love made him so, so stupid. “Hey,” Nico said quietly. “I know we made a bit of a backwards start last night-”

“No complaints here.”

“But,” Nico continued, glaring, “maybe later today, or something, we could…” He trailed off, then started up again. “I mean, get a coffee? Or a meal, or something?”

“You said _or something_ twice,” Will said, delighted, and Nico punched him, not lightly. “Nico di Angelo, are you asking me out on a _date_?”

“Not anymore, I’m not.”

Will couldn’t keep the smile off his face. “I’d love to get coffee with you, _or something_.”

“You are honestly the fucking worst.”

“I love you, too.”

Will froze, and so did Nico. His heart jump-started again. Nico’s dark eyes were staring at him, shocked. Will tried to smile again. It felt like his face was made of plastic, and he was trying to stretch it sideways. “I mean…I didn’t mean…I was just-”

A car horn nearly toppled both of them off their feet. _Karma, thy name is Jason Grace_.

* * *

“Good,” Percy said, leaping out of the driver’s seat of one of the cars. “You waited.”

Nico scowled, all traces of previous surprise erased from his face. “I was ordered to, wasn’t I?”

Jason had been the driving the other car; Piper and Leo toppled from it, both looking slightly queasy. “That you were, Neeks. Can’t have you running all over the worst parts of town without us, can we?”

“You _are_ all the worst parts of town,” Nico grumbled. Hazel, Frank and Annabeth all clambered out to join them. Hazel swept Will a single discerning look.

Leo was staring at the warehouse. “Looks like somewhere Scooby-Doo would definitely _not_ go.”

“How are we going to get past the fence?” Annabeth asked. Will, who often gravitated towards Frank in group situations such as this, gave his friend a startled look. He had assumed they might call the police, or the fire brigade, or someone with official clearance to run operations - Frank seemed to understand his alarm, but only gave him a helpless shrug.

Leo had produced what looked like the world’s largest wire-cutters from seemingly nowhere, and with a single swift move, cut the lock.

“What about digital alarms?” Percy asked him.

Leo pointed into the distance. “We’ll worry about that at the door.”

They crept towards the building, like a band of thieves, and Will found the absurdity of the situation equally terrifying and hilarious. He could feel the adrenaline building in his system, the longer the silence and darkness stretched. “Look,” Jason whispered harshly, practically vibrating with intensity. Will squinted into the direction he was pointing and saw a familiar symbol.

“The Pantheon,” Frank murmured. “We’re in the right place, then.”

There was a click, and a quick hiss of triumph; Leo had disabled the lock.

Percy looked back over his shoulder at them. “Everybody ready?” he asked.

Which seemed like a rather redundant question to Will.

* * *

The warehouse interior was, predictably, dark, musty and full of boxes. Annabeth handed out torches and ordered them to use a buddy system. “Don’t get separated,” she ordered. “It’s too dark, and it might be dangerous.”

“Annabeth, should we look in the boxes?” Hazel asked but to Will’s immense surprise, Annabeth shook her head.

“Luke was shot for knowing what’s in those boxes. I don’t want any of you taking that risk.”

Piper was next to protest. “But Annabeth-”

Annabeth wouldn’t meet anybody’s gaze. “Just do what I say,” she told them insistently. Then, she and Percy disappeared down the corridor to the very right, Hazel grabbed Frank’s arm and went down the next one, Jason, Leo and Piper took the corridor directly in front of them and left the far left for Nico and Will. “Er,” Will said. “So do you want to be my buddy?”

Nico shook his head and clicked his torch on. “You’re a dork.”

They started down the aisle. Nico swept his torch from right to left systemically, scouring the floor and Will, feeling rather obsolete, turned his torch beam upwards to the boxes. “Why do you think Annabeth doesn’t want to know what’s inside?”

Nico made a noise in the back of his throat. “She and Percy have probably already looked.”

Will blinked. “What?”

“They don’t want us to take the risk; doesn’t mean they won’t do it themselves. Have you _met_ Percy and Annabeth?”

“Stop.” Will grabbed Nico’s wrist to arrest the path of the light and leant closer. “Pebbles.”

“Pebbles?” Nico asked, crouching down and picking one up. “So what?”

“There were pebbles in Luke’s shoes. The police report said so.”

With some trepidation, Will bent down and looked underneath the lowest storage level. To his relief, there was nothing but dust. “Oh, thank God.”

As he straightened up, he found Nico watching him with tension and amusement warring on his face. “Just because it’s a creepy warehouse, and a murder scene, doesn’t mean there are bodies everywhere.”

“Shut up,” Will muttered. “It’s my first creepy warehouse murder scene.”

“I know,” Nico said. “You’re doing well.” They stood there, the torch beam illuminating both their faces, and Will felt the adrenaline in his blood still a little as Nico gave him a little smile. “Come on. We’re supposed to be working.”

As the torch beam moved, Will saw Nico’s face change. He looked wary, streamlined. “There’s a light.”

It was dull, like a bad office lightbulb, and shone through the edges of the boxes. A shadow flickered across it irregularly, like a candle or faulty electricity - _or a person, walking back and forth_ , Will realised. “Are we going to go and check it out?”

Nico held the torch out in front of him like a sword.

“Shouldn’t we get the others?” Will asked in a whisper.

“Might be dangerous,” Nico responded, then advanced. Even though this might have been the stupidest, more reckless, most dangerous thing he had ever done, Will rolled his eyes.

_They don’t want us to take the risk; doesn’t mean they won’t do it themselves._

_Have you_ met _Percy and Annabeth?_

Nico di Angelo was a hypocrite. A great, big hypocrite.

* * *

_He who returns from a journey is not the same as he who left._

_~Chinese Proverb_

* * *

In the years following, Will thought often about those next thirty metres.

They didn’t speak. Occasionally, Nico’s fingertips brushed against his.They strode, matched stride for stride, down the aisle. The light burned dully in the distance.

There was a large office in the back left corner of the warehouse, and they could see a single figure inside. “Ready?” Nico murmured.

“Yep,” Will said, clenching his fist around his torch like it was a knife.

Untruths abound.

* * *

The man was tall and broad, with a crown of golden hair. The back of his neck showed tanned skin, and he wore jeans, a white t-shirt and sneakers. The door creaked quietly as they pushed it open, but the man did not turn around.

That should have been their first clue.

Will waited for Nico to take the lead. He had no idea what they were supposed to say - _Hi? Who are you? Fancy a cup of tea so that you can confess your nefarious plans?_ But Nico said nothing; only turned off his torch. And there they stood in the office doorway, side by side, as the golden-haired man fiddled with the record player.

_Yesterday_

_All my troubles seemed so far away…_

Will’s mother loved this song; she always had. She had sung it to him before bed some evenings, her voice lilting and the guitar plaintive and simple underneath. Her smile, her comforting eyes, the kindness and love in her voice; all seemed so far away now.

He waited with held breath for the man to turn around. He wondered about the eyes - would they be cold? The eyes of someone who had killed Luke Castellan, who had, really, been almost a child. Like flat stones, dulled by time and cruelty, without compassion, without mercy.

And yet, as the man began to face them, Will couldn’t help thinking there was something familiar in the set of his shoulders, in his dress sense, in the hair lit by the low-level lightbulb.

Something he knew well, rising from the depths of his mind.

A booming laugh.

A crisp, clean voice.

Eyes of noon-tide blue.

Large hands, larger expectations.

They swirled in Will’s mind, rose and coalesced in a picture too bizarre and strange to believe.

And yet, the man turned to face them, and the picture in Will’s mind was true.

_Father_.

* * *

_It is not flesh and blood, but heart which makes us fathers and sons._

_~Friedrich von Schiller_

* * *

Will felt like he was choking on air. Nico took a single step forward. Apollo’s eyes were sad and wide, but his lips were a little crescent of a smile. “Will,” he said, his voice rich. “Please don’t be offended, but I’m not at all happy to see you.”

“Dad?”

Will’s voice emerged from his throat, smaller than he thought it would. He remembered as a child, running after his father, as if Apollo were the Sun.

Apollo’s smile was sad too. “My boy.”

Will was confused. “Dad-”

He started forward, but suddenly there were Nico’s fingers around his wrist, like an iron grip. “Will, don’t.”

“But,” Will said, blinking hard, “that’s my dad-”

“He’s got a gun.”

Nico’s voice was hard and flat, and Will saw that he was correct. Apollo leant his hands easily on the wooden table behind him, and next to his right hand, there was a revolver.

_Yesterday_

_Love was such an easy game to play…_

“Apollo,” Nico said. “What’s your business here?”

Apollo laughed. “Nico di Angelo. I’ve heard quite a lot about you.”

Nico’s fingers around Will’s wrist did not relent. “Have you.”

“Your father’s very impressed with you. It’s a shame he never likes to show it.” Nico let go of Will’s wrist and clasped his torch with both hands. In his daze, Will wondered if Nico planned to hit his father over the head with it.

“Dad,” he said hesitantly. “The gun.”

“Oh, this?” Apollo asked, picking up the revolver, loading and clicking the mechanisms with ease. Will flinched back and Apollo stopped. “My son,” he said. “Such a tender heart.” He shrugged. “I was just examining it while I waited for you.”

“Waited for us?” Will repeated. He wished his brain would work correctly.

“One of us has been here every day and night, since the funeral,” Apollo told them easily. He might as well have been reciting bad poetry, for all his casual demeanour.

“Who the fuck is _us_?” Nico demanded, but just as he did, the door behind him burst open, and the Olympus Detective Agency cavalry flooded in.

“ _Apollo_?” Annabeth demanded, thunderstruck. “What are _you_ doing here?”

Apollo shrugged and gestured with the gun; Percy pulled one of his own out and pushed at the safety. Will winced again. “Ah,” Apollo said with a grin. “Perseus Jackson. I never thought you’d be the clever one, but here you are.”

“Put the gun down, please, sir,” Percy said in a steady voice, although he didn’t lift his own firearm.

In answer, Apollo lifted his hands comically, then tossed the gun into an open crate nearby. There was the sound of clanking metal as the gun fell, and Will took a step back, right into Jason, who grabbed his elbow.

Percy spoke again, although his face had relaxed now that Apollo did not have a weapon in hand. “Did you kill Luke Castellan?”

“Percy,” Will protested, but Jason shushed him, and Nico’s hand took Jason’s place at his elbow.

“I’ve killed nobody,” Apollo said in reply. “But I don’t deny that I bear some guilt for that poor boy.”

Annabeth was next to speak. “Why.”

Apollo looked at her now with compassion, and with pity. “Because I knew. We all knew.”

“You all knew,” Jason repeated, his voice loud in Will’s ear, smeared with horror. “What about his father? Did Hermes know?”

There was an entire universe in Apollo’s eyes. “Hermes knew. But not until it was too late.”

Annabeth covered her mouth, and Jason hissed a curse under his breath. Will felt dizzy, dizzy, dizzy, like everything was spinning and the colours all blended together. “I need to sit.”

Nico helped him to a chair, but when Apollo reached to touch him, he recoiled wildly. Apollo had the gall to look hurt. “Don’t get too comfortable,” he advised his son. “The others are coming, and they’ll want to sit.”

“The others,” Frank said sharply. “Is this your operation? Who did you call? And how did you know we would be here?”

Apollo smiled. “Oh, it’s my operation, but not my idea. You’ll see soon.” The record player had stopped. “As to how I knew you were here - your friend Leo Valdez cut the lock on the gate with _wire-cutters_. Do you really think we don’t have surveillance around this place?"

_Your friend Leo Valdez._ Will frowned at that, and looked around, but Leo wasn’t there.

Apollo’s phone buzzed and he glanced down at it. “Party’s here,” he said, then looked around at them all, standing there. “Any of you who wishes to leave should probably go now. There’s a back door you can take.”

Hazel’s voice was clear as she spoke. “You’re giving us an easy way out. You’ve never given Will an easy way out of anything.”

Apollo reached to touch Will’s head. He glanced at them all once more. “None of you will go. I can see that already.” He sighed. “You have so much of your fathers in you.”

“What do our fathers have to do with it?” Piper spoke up for the first time in a bewildered tone.

“ _Your_ father has nothing to do with this at all, Miss McClean,” a voice came from behind them. “But I can’t say the same for the rest of these poor tykes.”

It was Ares, who Will had not seen since high school, wearing a leather jacket and a smug grin. He cut through their group like a bull scattering sheep, and slouched in a chair next to Will, gestured in turn at Nico, Jason, Percy, Hazel, and grinned even wider. “ _Your_ fathers, on the other hand…”

“Please don’t bring my father into this,” Jason said with a steely edge to his voice. “I’m nothing like him, but he’s nothing like _this_.”

“Your faith, although misplaced, touches me, my son,” a voice came from behind them, and Will turned sideways to hear. “Perhaps we are more alike than I believed.”

It was Will’s turn to grab at Nico, who sucked in so much air that it rasped and rattled in his throat. Jason’s jaw went slack with shock; Percy dropped the gun in his hand, which _clanged_ into the silence.

The party had arrived.

Will had been wrong before. _This_ was karma.

They must all have done something so, _so_ fucked up in a past life.

It was as if his mind had left his body, and was turning and turning and turning.

Time ticked on, and on.

Will still had no idea what was going on, or how any of these men - or his father - were involved, but he knew that this wasn’t good. An abandoned warehouse, full of guns. Surveillance tape. Luke Castellan, with a gun in his hand that looked remarkably like the one Apollo had just been holding. And all the men in front of them, implicated, marked.

_I bear some guilt for that poor boy_.

“ _Dad_?”

Will wasn’t sure who had spoken.

Standing there was Zeus, in a black suit that looked absurdly out of place in the warehouse.

Beside him, Poseidon.

Next, Hades.

And last came Hermes, who looked miserable.

These were men who had raised them.

All their fathers in a line; a well-dressed criminal line-up.

_Let’s take these fuckers down_ , Will remembered Leo saying.

Case solved.

Oh, how the tables had turned.

* * *

_Some say the world will end in fire,_

_Some say in ice._

_~Robert Frost_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you enjoyed! Please review. :)


	11. Fire and Gold

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Something lost, something gained, something lost, something gained.

_The past beats inside me like a second heart._

_~John Banville, “The Sea”_

* * *

Afterwards, it was all a little blurry to Will. He knew the nature of memory, and over the years, began to doubt even his own recollection of the events.

A memory like looking through stained glass on a chilled morning, all blurry and misted. Snippets, clear as the frost.

* * *

“Okay,” Percy said. He picked the gun back up, turned the safety back on and set it down gently. (Will remembered that part very well.) Then, “Can someone please explain what the fuck is going on?” He stared around at them all, his green eyes coming to rest desperately on Poseidon. “Dad-”

“I’m afraid it’s a little more complicated than any of us thought, Percy,” Poseidon interrupted him gently.

* * *

“I thought you were going to explain, Apollo.”

“Haven’t gotten ‘round to it.”

“You left us the fun part, I see,” Ares said with a feral grin.

* * *

Hades put the kettle on. Nico pressed so far away from his father that he was practically in Will’s side. “Would anybody else like tea?” he asked. His voice was as dark and rich as Will remembered.

“Are you joking?” Hazel demanded like a whip. Frank had hold of her from behind.

Hades gave her a look, and she settled a little. “If we are to conduct uncivilised business, it may as well be in a civilised manner. Tea, Nico?”

“No, thank you,” Nico replied like ice. His hand gripped Will’s, so hard that Will felt the pain all the way to his elbow.

* * *

There was another pain, in his chest, that Will recognised.

The last time he had felt it, he had taken an ECG.

Lee’s voice in his mind. _Dis-ease_.

* * *

The facts.

Cold and hard and clear as diamonds.

The Pantheon was Zeus’ brainchild, and his brothers and all his favourite apprentices were in on it too. There was Hermes, Luke’s own father; Dionysus, who was absent and under Zeus’ tutelage was one of the richest men in the country; Apollo himself.

It was a corporation that ran on the business of money. Weapons trading made money, and countries that were at war needed weapons.

(“You’re a doctor,” Will said to his father, standing up so quickly that almost tumbled over Nico trying to get away.

“Will-” Apollo began, but Will’s vision was blurring at the edges.

“I think I’m going to be sick,” he said, slamming into the edge of the sink with both hands.

“Me too,” he heard Jason mutter.

There were cool fingers in his hair, on the back of his neck; a cool thumb at his hairline. He could see Nico’s shoes beside his as he looked downwards.

“Your son has a delicate constitution.” That was Ares.

“Shut _up_.” That was Apollo.)

The crates were full of weapons, of every kind imaginable. They were shipped all over the world. Money came back.

(“And what,” Annabeth said, her grey eyes glittering, “about Luke?”)

Hermes had been careless. He had left evidence of their operations lying about, and Luke, ever the inquisitive journalist, had stumbled upon it. They had done everything in their power to stop him - sent warning notes, sent threats, sent his father to discourage him. But Luke would not be stopped. Who ever listened to their parents at that age?

(“Was that what all of those messages were about?” Percy asked. “You were trying to stop us, too.”

“Percy,” Poseidon said. “Do you think any of us wanted this moment to happen?”)

He had come to the warehouse in the dead of night, as they had. He had discovered their operations. He had threatened to expose them to the media. He had been killed for his troubles.

(“You killed your own son.” Frank sounded like he was about to faint.

“I did not,” Hermes snapped.

Despite himself, Will glanced at his own father and was gratified to see that Apollo, too, looked a little ill. “Did he?”

Apollo shook his head minutely. “No.”

“Did you know Luke was going to die?” Jason asked. He clung with one hand like a limpet to Piper, who stood still and silent.

Hermes bowed his head. “Not until it was done.”)

* * *

_Facts are many, but the truth is one._

_~Rabindranath Tagore_

* * *

Into the silence, Percy.

“So what now?” he asked. “Are you going to kill us too?”

Nico twined his own fingers through Will’s, to the latter’s surprise.

It was Zeus who spoke, in a low voice. “We would never kill you.”

* * *

“We all have the greatest regret-”

Will laughed. The truth was out now, and it made him so, so tired. “Regret,” he said. “What good does that do Luke now?”

“If you’re not going to kill us, what are you going to do?” Jason demanded.

Will closed his eyes.

_I want to go home._

* * *

They were escorted out. Quickly and quietly, with no fuss, although there was hardly anyone around to see them fuss.

The life had gone out of them; Percy was white as snow, Jason had tear tracks glittering on his cheeks. Nico’s jaw clenched but he said nothing.

Hazel looked at her father. “I probably won’t be coming to our monthly lunches anymore.” Her eyes were full of fury, the gold glinted in the moonlight as they stood outside the warehouse. Hades’ face did not change. Will remembered it very clearly.

And he remembered even more clearly, the explosion that came next.

Fire in the night sky. A blossoming, bleeding moon.

* * *

_Fire and gunpowder do not sleep together._

_~Proverb_

* * *

The next bit was foggy. Will tried to explain it to his mother, who was utterly fuming about the whole situation, but it was tricky.

* * *

Leo liked to set things on fire.

When he was a child, he had set fires in his mother’s workshop, much to her chagrin. And even though he had discovered electronics when he got older, he never released that small, secret dream of blowing things up for a living.

It was a pounding in his heart and his ears. It was a burning in his eyes and fingers. It was lava in his veins.

(“It’ll be you in a jail, or the hospital, if you’re not careful, _mijo_ ,” Esperanza Valdez had told him. But who ever listened to their parents at that age?)

Weapons were made for being blown up, after all.

* * *

_Ignis aurum probat_

_‘Fire tests gold’_

_~Seneca_

* * *

_Bang._

Piper screamed Leo’s name, and Hazel did too.

_Bang._

Jason lunged forward towards the door, but Zeus had a hold of his upper arm with a single hand, and was using the other to gesture at Poseidon.

_Bang_.

Glass shattered outwards towards them. Will shielded his eyes with his hands. Tiny shards of glass sprinkled down over his skin; they felt like grains of sand.

_Bang._

Jason snarled at his father, fighting tooth and nail against him. Zeus pinned him back with one forearm and spoke urgently into his phone. Annabeth and Frank were shouting something that Will couldn’t hear over the ringing in his ears.

_Bang._

They saw the lick of flames, hot and deadly.

_Bang._

Percy was running and running back and forth, trying to catch a glimpse of Leo. Will saw him first.

_Bang._

_Will_ , he heard Nico’s voice, _Will stop Will_ , but his were the only footsteps he could hear, crunching over glass as Leo’s slim shadow, almost doubled over, detached from the building and stumbled forward.

Will reached him; they pushed at each other. Leo shoved him hard away, Will grasped at Leo’s clothes and hauled him _firmly_ from the explosion.

Fire was falling like rain. In medical emergencies, strangely, it was Apollo’s voice in his head, telling him what to do. Look at his skin his eyes, his hands, listen to his breathing. Smoke inhalation. Burns. The crazed look in Leo’s eyes.

_Bang._

He saw the shadow of debris fly through the air, like a handful of stones tossed towards them. One was headed straight for the back of Leo’s head. Skulls were made to protect the head, but they couldn’t hold out against everything.

Will grasped hold of Leo and pushed him in a swinging motion towards the others, and downwards, out of harm’s way.

Leo was clear of danger when the debris rained down around them. Will wasn’t.

* * *

He was on the ground before he felt the pain. One in his head and one in his side. Leo had been wearing a white collared shirt; Will saw him tear it off his shoulders. When he pressed it to Will’s head, Will saw stars burst white-hot behind his eyes.

There were other people too, suddenly.

His father, with blue eyes huge and swift hands, shouting orders that Frank and Hazel were trying to follow. Leo jostled his head by mistake, and Will managed a weak, “Ouch.”

And there was Nico, too. Hades hung over his shoulder like a tall, dark shadow. _I know you’re in love with my son._

Nico touched his face with shaking fingers, and Will tried to say something, but Apollo shoved something into his side and he cried out instead. Nico said something, but there was too much noise, so he mimed to Will instead; a finger on his lips. _Shush_.

The conversation by his head was the clearest. “…many more?” Percy was shouting, although he didn’t sound too angry.

“It’s finished,” Leo replied. He was closest; Will’s head was in his lap.

Somebody was crying; there were tears on his face. At first, Will thought it might have been Leo, but Nico’s eyes glittered in the firelight suspiciously. _Don’t cry_ , Will wanted to say, but the edges of his vision were blurring alarmingly, and he used his allotted movement energy to grasp his father’s hand.

Apollo looked startled, and sad, and panicked all at once. It was the most emotion that Will had ever seen in his father. “I’m about to pass out,” he said as clearly as he could.

Apollo nodded once, his eyes swept to Will’s head. There was assessment in his face now too, an assessment Will was familiar with. A doctor’s responsibility. “Go on,” he answered at last.

And Will obeyed.

* * *

When he woke up, his father was still there.

Which was a new feeling for him.

* * *

_Rarely do members of one family grow up under the same roof._

_~Richard Bach_

* * *

They had news for him, all of them.

Percy and Annabeth explained, in great detail. The police had come to the scene, and the ambulance too. The Detective Agency had bargained with Zeus and Poseidon. The weapons were gone, and if the business did not continue, nobody would be exposed to anyone. Zeus had not been happy, especially with Leo, but Annabeth suspected that this was due more to loss of revenue than illicit activities.

“I’m surprised he agreed. They didn’t with Luke,” Will said, wincing as he moved.

“Dad sort of owes me one,” Percy said darkly, and Will sighed.

They explained, when the others arrived, how Will had been standing straight when the last explosion had gone off; been struck in the head with debris, and in the side with glass, and how Leo had caught him as he fell to the concrete.

“I don’t remember that,” Will admitted, putting a hand to his head.

“You bled a lot,” Piper informed him. “All over us. I had to throw away my shirt.”

Jason looked utterly horrified at her levity. “Piper!”

Will grinned. “Sorry about that.” Then he looked at Leo, and remembered the ever-present concern of smoke and fire. “What about you? Are you alright?”

Leo looked as if there were several things that he would have liked to say, but couldn’t bring himself to say them. “You tried to save my life,” he said quietly at last. “It was really dumb, what you did.” He fidgeted; his ADHD in full play. “Thank you.”

Will blinked. “Don’t mention it.”

“It was a dumb thing _he_ did?” Jason repeated furiously. “You exploded a warehouse - completely illegal, by the way - full of weapons _while you were still inside_.”

“And it all turned out alright, didn’t it?” Leo said cheerfully. Jason gaped and moved his mouth in silent outrage for a few moments. Will had the feeling that it was a conversation they had had several times already.

“Turned out alright?” Jason repeated. “ _Turned out alright_?”

“That’s what I said, _mum_ ,” Leo said with a slight scowl, and they all grinned.

“Unbelievable,” Jason said. “You know-”

Leo interrupted Jason, speaking to Will. “I owe you. Really.”

Will smiled and shook his head. “It’s family. We don’t owe.”

* * *

Nico hung back when the others left, looking both upset and uncertain. “What’s the matter with you?” Will asked him, frowning.

They were all shaken up. It wasn’t every day that one discovered their father was what amounted to a global villain. It showed; the way Jason’s head hung, the clench of Hazel’s hands, the current of anger running Percy.

Nico was more difficult to read. “Is it your father?” Will asked him.

Nico stayed near the door. “My father?” he repeated, a slight crease in his brow. “Who cares about that?”

Will’s eyebrows rose. “I do.”

Nico waved a hand. “You care about everything.”

Will, despite himself, felt rather flattered. “You cried,” he recalled. “Didn’t you?”

“Apparently,” Nico replied, “I do that a lot around you.”

Will laughed, seeing the joke for what it was. “Not a great sign, I’ll admit, but we can work past it.”

Nico laughed too, and moved a tiny bit closer to the bed. “Are you ok?” he asked, almost gently, and fondness spilled out in Will’s ribcage.

“Are _you_?” Will responded, and Nico shrugged.

“I’m not the one who has a concussion-”

“I _don’t_ have a concussion-”

“And multiple other injuries-”

“One other injury-”

“You could have died.”

_One head wound_ , Will thought, _and a minor laceration_. Loss of consciousness from shock, pain, blood loss, probably not enough sleep - or, barely any sleep at all. Hardly a near-death experience. But Nico’s face that night had been as bloodless as the moon in the sky, and there had been fear in his face.

“I’m sorry,” Will said honestly. _I didn’t realise it would scare you._

Nico’s expression morphed into something hard, something stubborn. “You can’t die,” he said. “You can’t. My mother - then Bianca -” He broke off and swallowed.

“Hey,” Will said, with a rush of emotion. He put a hand out, and Nico came closer slowly and took it. “I’m not going to die from this. That’s a promise. And I promise not to leave you.”

It was a rash promise, reckless. He had no real idea of what he was promising; whether he meant in life, in death, in sickness, in health, in any other way that it could be meant. But he knew that he wanted, very much, to find out. “Remember Luke’s funeral?” Will asked suddenly, and Nico nodded. “You asked me what your father said to me.” Another nod. “Do you still want to know?”

“You said it was nothing,” Nico said.

Will smiled a tiny, secret smile. “He said he knew that I was in love with you.”

Nico’s face didn’t change all too much, but Will heard his sharp intake of breath and, at his wrist, felt the pounding of his pulse speed up. “And,” Nico said with great care, “are you?”

Will felt a delicious curl of something in his chest - mischief and the spark of new adventure. “I’m afraid you’re going to have to find that out the hard way.”

He gave Nico a bright smile, and it was returned, smaller but no less bright. “I think,” Nico said, “I can deal with that.”

* * *

_Half a truth is often a great lie._

_~Benjamin Franklin_

* * *

The day he was to be released from hospital, Apollo came to see him again.

“Father,” Will said evenly, zipping his bag closed. Frank and Leo were waiting for him in the car; they had texted a photo of them with takeaway burgers.

Apollo closed the door. “I came to see you,” he said uncertainly. “But you were still unconscious at the time.”

“I wasn’t,” Will replied. “I remember.”

Apollo looked equally relieved and put off. “Oh.”

Will sighed. “Can I help with something?”

“I wanted to speak with you,” Apollo began. “How are you feeling?”

It was awkward, Will saw that, but he was beyond giving his father any help. “Quite well, thanks.”

“Look, William, I just wanted to tell you that…”

Apollo trailed off. “Yes?” Will asked sharply, glancing at his watch. Leo was probably leaving the car idling. He hoped that they weren’t blocking the entire hospital driveway, although he wouldn’t put it past Leo. Frank, at least, would be sensible.

The words seemed difficult for Apollo to mouth. “I’m…sorry.”

Will sighed again and folded his arms. “What for?”

Apollo’s jaw clenched. He always wore a wedding band on his hand, even though he was solidly unmarried. “I’m sorry that you had to find out the way you did.”

“Well, that wasn’t your fault. We were the ones who came to you.”

“You’re being purposely difficult, aren’t you?”

“I’m being honest,” Will snapped. “Which is something you’ve never been to me.”

Apollo looked steadily at him. Then, suddenly, in a fluid movement, swung the plastic chair nearest to the door around and sat down. “Very well,” he said. “I’ll be honest with you.” He clasped his hands together, leaned forward on his knees. “The night that Luke Castellan came to the warehouse, there were workers. They were loading some of the…objects-”

“Guns,” Will interrupted. “Bombs. Instruments of war.”

“Yes,” Apollo said, “and Luke came in and made a big fuss.”

“I already know this,” Will said.

“Luke turned the gun on them,” Apollo continued, and Will stopped short. “He took one of the handguns. He said they were to stop doing what they were doing and take him to whoever was in charge.” Will felt his palms sweating. “They knew he was Hermes’ son. They asked him to calm down. One of them tried to take the gun from him, and he fired.”

“ _What_?” Will heard himself ask.

“One of them got close enough to put a hand on him, and he fired twice more.” Apollo’s blue eyes came up to rest on Will. “The man who ended up shooting him pulled the trigger by mistake. They didn’t mean to kill him.”

Will shook his head, his mouth agape. Luke had fired first. “But Luke wasn’t meaning to-”

“We don’t know,” Apollo said, shaking his head. “Hermes said that he’s always been…he’d always been rather wild.”

Brave or stupid. That was how Thalia had described Luke. Still - “You’re lying,” Will said to his father.

“I am not,” Apollo said quietly. “But I’m not finished. This next part is something that none of your friends know, but if you would like me to be honest, then I will tell you.” Will hesitated briefly before nodding. “Of course, it was brought to our attention at once. Zeus called us all to tell us, and he asked me come straight away, because Luke was injured, so I drove to the-”

“Wait,” Will said. A sense of horror was slowly dawning on him. “Injured. He was still alive.”

“It was a bad shot,” Apollo said flatly. “But the bullet was still lodged inside him.”

Will knew what that meant. The bullet might have blocked the wound; if Luke hadn’t moved too much, internal lacerations might have been repaired. “You could have saved him.”

It was Apollo’s turn to hesitate. “Maybe. Maybe not.”

Will felt the tears spill down his cheeks now, hot and fast. “But you didn’t.”

“It wasn’t long before he was dead,” Apollo said softly. “Even if we had called an ambulance, even if we had helped him, he most likely would not have survived.”

Will wiped the tears away with the back of one hand, angrily. “Is that what you tell yourself?”

Apollo sighed too. “In the end, it was Zeus’ decision-”

“You’re a doctor,” Will said again to his father. He could taste bile in his throat, and his eyes burned with the beginnings of unshed tears. “It’s your responsibility to _heal the sick_. To help people. It’s-” He broke off, his throat thick with disgust. “It’s _our_ responsibility. How can that be difficult for you to understand?”

His father looked at him with a mixture of sadness and steel. “Now you know the truth. Do you feel better?”

Will gritted his teeth. “I hate you.”

“I have no doubt,” Apollo said gently. “Can you understand that I was only trying to protect you?”

Will had absolutely no idea what he understood. He couldn’t remember ever being more furious in his life; rage coursed through him like Leo’s fire, throbbing with every pulse of his heart. Apollo gazed at him, devoid of expression, and Will was overcome with the ardent desire to hurt his father. To punch him, to hit him, to tear at his hair and clothes and heart.

Instead, he took up his bag and wiped his face again, and said as he was leaving the room, with all the venom he could muster, “I am ashamed to be your son.”

He didn’t look back to see if his father flinched.

* * *

“What’s wrong?” Frank asked in alarm as Will got into the backseat. Leo, behind the wheel, had been laughing at something. The grin died from his face.

“Are you alright?”

“No,” Will answered shortly. “You’re holding up about a thousand cars.”

Leo made no move to leave. Instead, he twisted around in his seat. “What’s happened?”

Will was glad it was them, and not Percy or Hazel or Nico or Jason, whose own fathers had been a part of this mad, terrible saga. “My father just came to see me.”

Their faces were full of sympathy. Leo reached back to touch Will’s knee. “I’ll take you home.”

As they pulled through the streets of the city, Will felt the tears start again, and he let them fall. Neither Frank nor Leo said anything; they let him cry, and cry, until he had no tears left.

* * *

_Memories are bullets. Some whiz by and only spook you. Others tear you open and leave you in pieces._

_~Richard Kadrey, “Kill the Dead”_

* * *

Will was going to break the clock.

It just kept ticking and ticking and ticking away with that obnoxiously loud regularity, as if nothing had changed in the world.

Time just kept on and on.

And Will resented the reminder.

Time was patient and steady and would wait forever for him to get out of his bed. It made no demands on him. The same could not be said of Nico di Angelo.

“It’s been three days,” he said from the doorway, unannounced and with no exposition. “You do nothing; you just lie there and read your bloody books. You won’t talk to anyone, you won’t answer texts, you won’t pick up the phone. Every person ever is ringing me, asking if you’re alright.” Nico made a face. “Do you know what it’s like to have Leo Valdez shouting at you down the phone?”

Will smiled. “I’m sorry that I’ve put you to trouble.”

“If you were sorry, you’d pick up the phone.” Nico’s expression hovered between exasperation and concern. “You could always talk to me, you know. If you want.”

Will sighed. He did want, but he didn’t. “I do know.”

“Is it about your dad?”

His head came up. “How do you know that?”

Nico shrugged. “You’re not the only one who’s had an encounter with his father in the past few days.”

“What did your father say?”

Nico shrugged again, the movement stiff. “Apologies. Reassurances that he’s not the shit-eating bastard that we think he is. He disagreed with it the whole time. They won’t be doing it in the future. He’s sorry that we had to find out. He should have done more to stop us investigating. Honestly, I’m not even that surprised by the whole thing.”

Will shook his head. “Yes, you are.”

Nico blinked several times, then responded, “So what did your dad say to you?”

Will took a deep breath. It was a burden that had sat heavy on his shoulders for three days, and he couldn’t give it to Nico. “Nothing good,” he responded.

There was a window, half-covered by the curtain and Nico drew it back. Then he came to the bed where Will was sitting, cross-legged, against the headboard. “You can trust me,” he said quietly. “Whatever it is, you can trust me.”

And Will did.

So he told Nico about Apollo, and when he was finished, there was awful silence. “My God,” Nico said, his face full of shock. “That’s…that’s…”

“Despicable,” Will said brokenly.

“Difficult,” Nico said, and Will frowned. “For you,” Nico clarified. “Why didn’t you tell the rest of us? You could have told Frank and Leo right then and there.” Will said nothing. He didn’t say that it was because he was ashamed of his father, and of his profession, and of himself in a way; nor that he never wished his friends to be weighed down by what he knew. Nico touched his face lightly, a little hesitantly. “We could have helped you. I could have helped you.”

He pulled his hand back, but Will caught it at the wrist. “You do.”

And he yanked Nico forwards so that they were nose to nose, and then they were kissing like before, lips and teeth and tongue, and Will stretched himself out on the bed and gasped as he felt Nico slide along his body, touching lips to his throat, his collarbone, his pulse point. All the bones in him seemed to be liquid, and he traced Nico’s jaw line with his index finger, unsure of how to say what he felt, the contentment that seemed to settle in him whenever Nico was near.

_You do._

* * *

Only afterwards, lying in bed, sunlight streaming over them, did Nico say the words that Will hadn’t realised he needed to hear.

“Just because your father doesn’t live up to your idea of what a doctor should be, doesn’t mean you can’t.” Will turned his head to see Nico on his side, watching him with dark, liquid eyes. “You believe doctors should be healers - good and kind and selfless, and you _are_. Don’t give that idea up just because your father is..” Nico hesitated, then said, “an exception.”

“Do you really think all those things about me?” Will asked into the quiet. _Marvel, wonder, delight._ He could hear his phone buzzing across the room, but he ignored it.

“I do,” Nico said quietly, seriously. “We all do. You’re family to us.” He squeezed Will’s hand. “And we _all_ think you’re a wonderful doctor.”

Will let this settle into him, like snowflakes soaking into his skin. It would take a long time, he thought, before this would no longer hurt him. But he had his mother, and his friends, and the Detective Agency, and he had Nico. “Thank you,” he said quietly. “I didn’t know that’s what you all thought of me.”

“I think all sorts of things about you, William Hector Solace,” Nico said, suddenly mischievous. “All sorts.”

This was how it was with Nico; easy and lilting and joking and teasing and laughing. Occasionally, moments of poignancy. Always joy. “Like what?” Will asked.

Nico pretended to think about it, even as he was drawing Will closer to him. “You’re going to have to find that out the hard way.”

Will smiled. He could feel his eyes start to sparkle. “I can deal with that.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you enjoyed! Please review. :)


	12. Merrily, Merrily

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> An ending.

_The world breaks everyone and afterward, many are strong at the broken places._

_~Ernest Hemingway, “A Farewell to Arms”_

* * *

There was a boy, named Nico di Angelo.

As a young child, he played in the streets of Venice, running down cobbled streets, over bridges, under eaves; wind in his hair and sunshine overhead and delight in his heart. His family was small - his mother, a dark-eyed beauty with a voice like a lark, and an older sister who was his entire world. It was a childhood of honey and wine, and it was fated to end far too early.

His mother was the first to go, which shattered the sweetness Nico tasted on his tongue every day; the grief jabbed its fingers into his ears and eyes and made the tears sting where they fell. When he lost Bianca, his heart broke too, and tore him apart from the inside out. Sometimes, he would press his fingers to his chest to check if he could still feel it beating. He met his father for the first time, a tall milk-pale man with a severe demeanour, who plucked him from the sunshine streets of Venice and brought him instead to America, then London; dazzling cities, silver and grey, that were too noisy and emptier than any places Nico had ever seen. His father’s was a hard, diamond world and Nico learned how to shield himself and how to wound others.

The grief that had beaten against his walls and doors began to settle, until at last, Nico found it was no longer a monster but a companion. It crept up against his windows for warmth; it curled up next to him like a cat in the quiet moments of the night. It wound its fingers into him, making itself so much a part of him that it would never be untangled.

His heart belonged to nobody but Bianca.

The first to change that was Jason Grace, all blond hair and gleaming eyes and uniform at just the right length, who sat next to him at lunch and stole his essays and shared his notes, and forced Nico to apply for university, and moved in with him in an apparent effort to be as much of a nuisance as possible. With him came Piper McClean and Leo Valdez, two of the most obnoxious people Nico had ever encountered, but with (although he would literally go to his grave before admitting it) two of the kindest hearts.

There was Hazel Levesque, another sister. She was not like Bianca. No, Hazel was bright and bubbling and little and light, and she looked to Nico for answers. There was Frank, who laughed more than Nico cared for, and Reyna, who frightened him a little, and Annabeth Chase, who was lightning-quick and military-precise. And there was Percy Jackson, with his ease and his confidence and his well-loved persona, who bothered Nico most of all.

They crept in one by one, but closer than all of them was Bianca. And there was no changing that. There was no beating down the doors.

Until Will Solace.

He was handsome; that was no secret. He was easy and bright and carried none of the darkness that surrounded Nico. And he laughed easily and made everyone love him in a way that Nico was convinced was magic. There was nothing to be suspicious of in Will Solace. He was made of the sunshine of Nico’s childhood, of honey and wine, of sweet delight.

Nico couldn’t hate Will Solace, no matter how hard he tried. When he fell asleep, he heard Bianca’s voice laughing. _Fratellino_ , she whispered to him, the familiar sparkle in her eyes. _You always were a sucker for a pretty face_.

Will Solace didn’t need to beat down the doors because, as Nico quickly discovered, _he had a fucking key_. He just unlocked the door, heedless of Nico’s protests, walked right in and made himself at home, most likely without even realising.

So this was the story of his extraordinary love - a doctor from Texas who had no idea how to use his phone, and lived for a whole year in a hotel room, like a character from the Disney Channel.

Reyna was the first to know about him, and she listened to him complain about Will Solace for weeks before she said anything. “So he’s pretty and clever and nice,” she said. “And it also annoys you because everyone likes him. But how does he make you feel?”

Nico sighed. They were colleagues. This was probably the most unprofessional he had ever been. With Reyna, it was easier, though. She didn’t hound him like Percy or Hazel or Jason would have done. “Dizzy,” he admitted, and she smiled her brilliant smile at him. “But it’s complicated - I’m complicated. Bianca-”

“When I met Piper’s mother,” Reyna cut across him. “She said something to me.”

“Yes, Piper told me,” Nico said. “Well, she swore a lot about it. Aphrodite wasn’t very nice to you, was she?”

“At the time, it seemed like cruelty. But now, I’m not so sure. She told me that I wouldn’t find love where I expected it.” She paused. “That nobody would be able to heal my heart.”

Nico made a face. That was cruel, he thought to himself. His heart had been broken a long time; he knew how it felt to think you couldn’t be healed. Reyna seemed to know what he was thinking. “Piper thought it was an awful thing to say, too,” she told him. “But I have begun to think of it as a kindness.”

“A kindness,” Nico repeated. “That she told you that you’d always have a broken heart?”

Reyna’s expression was thoughtful. “That’s not what she said.” Nico had no idea how she could be so calm about it. “She didn’t say my heart would always be broken. She said nobody would be able to heal it.”

Nico stared at her, trying to decipher her words, but they seemed to be going around and around in circles. “I don’t get it,” he announced, then drained his coffee.

“I think perhaps she was imparting a message,” Reyna told him. “Waiting for someone to come along is pointless. Because even if you can find the person who makes you _dizzy_ -” Here, she broke off and gave him a pointed look. “It matters not if we aren’t whole already.” She placed her hand gently on his forearm. “Nobody will fix your every problem. Nobody can give you peace. Nobody can heal your heart. Nobody but you.”

* * *

Will tasted of wine, too, and something sweeter underneath.

Nico di Angelo opened the doors and let the light flood into him.

He made himself whole with the pieces that were left for him; with Jason’s goodness and Leo’s faith and Piper’s kindness and Percy’s strength and Annabeth’s wisdom and Hazel’s smile and Frank’s reliability and Reyna’s friendship. They were in his heart; it was too late to kick them out. They’d settled, they were paying rent and complaining about the amenities fee.

He made his heart whole.

And then he gave it to William Solace.

Who made room for Bianca too. Who made room for everything.

Nico was convinced that there was no greater act of love in the universe.

* * *

(“Oh, sappy.”

“Shut up.”)

* * *

_There is a crack, a crack in everything /_

_That’s how the light gets in._

_~Leonard Cohen, “Anthem”_

* * *

They talked long into the night, and it was in the drowsy midnight hours when Nico said quietly, “What are we going to tell the others?”

Will had his answer ready. “Nothing.”

Nico watched him carefully. “Don’t you think they have a right to know?”

Will sighed and pulled the duvet around him. “Yes, I do.”

“But you don’t think we should tell them.”

“No,” Will said. “I don’t.”

Nico sat with his back to the wall, his old faded t-shirt rumpled at the hem. It was all dark; it reminded Will of the first time he had seen Nico, pale skin glowing in that dim pub light. “Why not?”

There were two version of Apollo. The one who Will had loved as a child, with sparkling eyes and bright humour. Who made his mother laugh. Who had lifted him high into the air while he tried to touch the sky. The one inside Will’s head.

And there was the one who was real.

The one who was real could not be denied, but the one inside Will’s head had meant more to than he could admit, even to himself. Perhaps, if he could, Will would go back in time and save Apollo the way he way he existed in the golden glow of memory.

There were two versions of Luke Castellan as well.

There was nothing he could do about his father. There was something he could do for Annabeth.

“We’ve all lost enough,” he said finally, and Nico seemed to understand, for he said nothing and only took Will’s hand.

* * *

_…if it’s in the memory, it becomes transformed into something else._

_~T.S. Eliot_

* * *

“So he is still alive,” Leo said from the sofa, his arms folded. “There were doubts.”

Will dropped his bag with a thud and looked sheepishly at his friend. “Sorry.”

“Twelve phone calls,” Leo said dramatically as Jason, then Piper, then Frank came to throw their arms around Will. “Nine voice mails. Two pointless visits to your apartment and about three hundred texts. No replies.”

Hazel pulled Will into a hug too, and whispered, “He means he loves you.”

Will laughed and pressed his lips to her cheek. “I love you all too.”

Somehow, after creeping through an abandoned warehouse, getting hit in the head by exploding debris, a stint in hospital and discovering his father no longer embodied the ideals that he had hoped, telling his friends that he loved them had become a lot easier.

Annabeth squeezed his arm companionably. “Heard you spoke to your dad.”

Will nodded. “Yeah.”

“Well,” Annabeth said now. “If you want to talk. Someone told me it wasn’t good to bottle up your feelings.”

Frank was next to embrace Will, and Percy clapped him on the shoulder. Nico edged around him and darted towards the coffee pot. Finally, Leo stood dramatically from where he sat and approached. Will watched him warily. “You aren’t going to punch me, are you?”

“Don’t push your luck,” Leo snapped, but then laughed and hugged Will with a wild abandon.

Piper was watching Nico with her eagle eyes. “And what’s going on with you two, then?” she asked. They had ordered pizza, and were all sprawled across the main office. Will remembered the first time he had ever seen them all in here, like coats and hats cast carelessly on the sofas. It was a lovely sight now, with the Sun going down.

“Lots of things,” Nico said, then took a bite of pizza and looking pointedly at Will. _Your turn_.

“But you are together, aren’t you?” Hazel asked hopefully, her hand clasped in Frank’s. “Please say you are, because I honestly cannot deal with more mutual pining.”

“ _Hazel_.” Nico looked utterly furious. “ _I did not pine_.”

“Yes, you did,” Will laughed. “And yes, we are. So you don’t need to annoy your brother anymore.” He winked at Hazel; she beamed at him. “That’s my job now.”

Everything dissolved into laughter and the rose-gold tint of sunset. Piper’s bronze hair clip winked at him, as she leaned into Jason’s side. Her whole face lit up when she laughed. Jason flicked a piece of pizza crust at Leo, who threatened to upend his can of lemonade in retaliation. Annabeth had crossed her legs and was picking apart her pizza with delicate hands while Percy made faces at the deconstructed food. Frank leaned back and grinned as Hazel giggled at her brother’s face, and when Nico looked over at Will, everything fell into place all at once.

Time stood still.

Or it would have, if it were able.

* * *

(“Uh huh, who’s sappy now?”

“It’s a _happy_ _ending_ , Nico. And every word is true.”

“Doesn’t mean it isn’t cheesy. And not in a poetic way.”

“Fine, Shakespeare; what would _you_ prefer? Shall I say that we’re living happily ever after?”

“Ew, Gods, _no_.”

“What’s wrong with happily ever after?”

“Our parents are international criminals, too wealthy to be stopped by the law. Would you say that’s happily ever after?”

“Fairytales have evil mothers and cruel fathers, and _they_ still get to live happily ever after.”

“This isn’t a fairytale, Will. Nothing is ever going to be perfect. Besides, those endings are disgusting. All happiness and joy and family and love and finding a Prince Charming.”

“…”

“Stop _laughing_.”

“Prince Charming? Nico, I’m touched.”

“Don’t be.”

“Well, isn’t that what this is?”

“…Fine. Have it your way. We’re living happily ever after.”

“Thank you.”

“But we’re living sadly, too. Happily and sadly, every day, dealing with everything in between. There’s your answer - there is no happily ever after. There’s only living. And living well.”

“….”

“Which, I suppose, in a way, is its own happily ever after.”

“…”

“…”

“That’s beautiful.”

“I so despise you.”

“I know you do.”)

* * *

_“I just try to live every day as if I’ve deliberately come back to this one day to enjoy it. As if it were the full, final day of my extraordinary, ordinary life.”_

_~Richard Curtis, “About Time”_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We're out.
> 
> With love and thanks.


End file.
